THE  FOUR-LEAVED  SHAMROCK 

BY 

EDOUARD  REN£  LEFEBVRE-LABOULAYE 

MEMBER   OF   THE    INSTITUTE   OF    FRANCE 

TRANSLATED  BY  MARY  L.  BOOTH 
Nefo  American  iEUttton 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG  AND   COMPANY 
1892 


PUBLISHERS'   ACKNOWLEDGMENT. 


THE  Publishers  wish  to  acknowledge  the  courtesy 
of  Messrs.  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  who  have  kindly 
permitted  them  to  use  in  this  little  volume  Miss 
Booth's  copyrighted  translation  of  "Abdallah," 
which  forms  a  part  of  the  collection  published  by 
that  firm  under  the  title  of  "Laboulaye's  Fairy 
Book." 


2226111 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    THE  JOY  OF  THE  HOUSE 9 

II.     THE  HOROSCOPE        16 

III.  EDUCATION 25 

IV.  THE  RECOGNITION 39 

V.    THE  NEW  SOLOMON 47 

VI.    VIRTUE  REWARDED 64 

VII.     BARSIM 75 

VIII.    THE  JEW 83 

IX.    THE  WELL  OF  ZOBEYDE 92 

X.     THE  COPPER  LEAF 97 

XI.    THE  GARDENS  OF  IREM 102 

XII.    THE  Two  BROTHERS 105 

XIII.  THE  CARAVAN no 

XIV.  CAFOUR 113 

XV.    THE  SULTAN  OF  CANDAHAR 119 

XVI.    THE  ATTACK 123 

XVII.     ABDALLAH 133 

XVIII.    THE  SILVER  LEAF 140 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIX.  THE  SECRET 145 

XX.  THE  PATIENCE  OF  REYNARD 151 

XXI.  THE  AUCTION 164 

XXII.  THE  ARRIVAL 175 

XXIII.  KARA  SHITAN 180 

XXIV.  HOSPITALITY 185 

XXV.  THE  GOLDEN  LEAF 191 

XXVI.  THE  RETURN 200 

XXVII.  LEILA 205 

XXVIII.  VENGEANCE       210 

XXIX.  THE  DIAMOND  LEAF 216 

XXX.  THE  HAPPINESS  OF  OMAR 221 

XXXI.  Two  FRIENDS       230 


ABDALLAH, 


i. 


THE  JOY  OF  THE  HOUSE. 

|T  Djiddah  the  rich,  on  the  shores  of 
the  Red  Sea,  there  once  lived  an 
Egyptian  merchant  by  the  name  of 
Hadji  Mansour.  It  was  said  that  he 
had  formerly  been  a  slave  of  the  great  AH  Bey, 
and  had  served  by  turns,  and  sometimes  even  at 
the  same  time,  the  French  and  the  Turks,  the 
Mamelukes  and  Mehemet  Ali,  in  the  wars  of 
Egypt.  During  the  struggle  each  party  relied  on 
him  for  provisions,  arms,  and  camels,  yet  after 
the  battle  he  always  complained  of  having  ruined 
himself  for  the  victor.  It  is  true  that  at  that  time 
no  one  showed  more  zeal,  and  no  one  obtained 
more  cheaply  the  spoils  of  the  vanquished.  In 
this  honest  vocation  the  obliging  Mansour  had 


10  ABD  ALLAH, 

gained  great  wealth,  though  not  without  some 
anxieties.  He  had  been  denounced  by  the  en- 
vious as  a  spy,  he  had  been  bastinadoed  by  fa- 
natics as  a  traitor,  twice  even  he  would  have  been 
hung  had  it  not  been  for  the  charity  of  a  pacha, 
who  had  consented,  for  the  trifling  sum  of  a  mil- 
lion piastres,  to  acknowledge  such  shining  inno- 
cence. Mansour  had  too  lofty  a  soul  to  be  dis- 
mayed by  these  political  risks  ;  and  if  he  retired, 
when  peace  was  made,  to  Djiddah,  it  was  only 
because  lawful  commerce  was  thenceforth  the  only 
road  that  led  to  fortune. 

In  this  new  kind  of  life  Mansour  was  neither 
less  prudent  nor  less  successful.  It  was  a  com- 
mon report  that  his  house  was  paved  with  gold 
and  precious  stones.  Little  love  was  bestowed 
on  the  Egyptian,  who  was  a  stranger  in  Arabia, 
and  who  passed  for  one  of  the  harshest  of  credi- 
tors ;  but  at  Djiddah  men  dared  not  openly  show 
contempt  for  a  man  who  measured  gold  by  the 
bushel,  and  as  soon  as  Mansour  appeared  in  the 
bazaar,  all  ran  to  vie  for  the  honor  of  holding  his 
stirrup  and  kissing  his  hand.  The  merchant  re- 
ceived all  this  homage  with  the  modesty  of  a  man 
who  knows  the  prerogatives  of  wealth ;  thirty 
years  of  avarice  and  cunning  had  brought  all 
honest  men  to  his  feet. 

One  thing  alone  was  lacking  to  this  favorite  of 
fortune,  and  disturbed  his  happiness ;  he  had  no 
children.  When  he  passed  before  the  shop  of  a 


THE  JOY  OP   THE  HOUSE.  II 

poor  tradesman,  and  saw  the  father  surrounded  by 
young  sons,  the  hope  and  pride  of  the  house,  he 
sighed  with  regret  and  envy,  and  on  his  return  he 
shut  himself  up  in  his  warehouse,  forgot  his  pipe, 
and  instead  of  telling  his  beads  or  reciting  the 
verses  of  the  Koran,  slowly  stroked  his  white 
beard,  reflecting  with  terror  in  his  heart  that  old 
age  was  approaching,  and  that  he  should  leave 
none  of  his  flesh  and  blood  behind  him  to  carry 
on  the  business  after  he  was  gone.  His  only  heir 
was  the  pacha,  who  might  grow  tired  of  waiting, 
in  which  case  what  would  hinder  him  from  de- 
spatching a  solitary  foreigner,  and  laying  violent 
hands  on  these  dearly  bought  treasures? 

These  thoughts  and  fears  poisoned  the  life  of 
the  Egyptian.  What  was  his  joy,  therefore,  when 
one  of  his  wives,  an  Abyssinian  woman,  an- 
nounced to  him  that  he  would  soon  be  a  father  ! 
At  this  news  the  good  man  well-nigh  lost  his  rea- 
son. Twice  as  avaricious  and  covetous  since  he 
had  begun  to  amass  treasures  for  his  child,  he 
shut  himself  up  to  weigh  and  count  his  gold,  un- 
folded his  rich  stuffs,  and  dug  up  his  diamonds, 
pearls,  and  rubies ;  then  talked  to  these  lifeless 
things  as  if  they  could  understand  him,  and  told 
them  of  the  new  master  who  would  watch  over 
and  love  them  in  turn.  When  he  went  into  the 
city  he  insisted  on  talking  to  all  he  met  of  his  son, 
for  it  was  a  son  that  God  owed  his  faithful  servant, 
and  was  greatly  astonished  to  see  every  one  at- 


1 2  ABD ALLAH. 

tending  to  his  business  as  usual,  when  all  the  in- 
habitants of  Djiddah  should  have  had  but  one 
thought,  —  namely,  that  God,  in  his  justice,  was 
about  to  bless  the  house  of  the  shrewd  and  fortu- 
nate Mansour. 

The  Egyptian  was  not  disappointed  in  his  ex- 
pectations ;  and,  that  nothing  might  be  wanting 
to  his  happiness,  a  son  was  born  to  him  at  the 
most  favorable  hour  of  the  most  auspicious  month 
of  the  year.  When,  on  the  eighth  day,  he  was 
permitted  to  see  this  long-wished-for  child,  he 
tremblingly  approached  the  palm-tree  cradle,  lined 
with  cotton,  where  the  heir  of  the  Mansours  was 
sleeping  on  a  silken  handkerchief  embroidered 
with  gold,  and  gently  raising  the  veil  that  cov- 
ered it,  perceived  a  robust  infant,  almost  as  black 
as  his  mother,  already  gathering  the  cotton  about 
him  with  his  tiny  hands.  At  this  sight  Mansour 
stood  dumb  with  admiration ;  large  tears  trickled 
down  his  cheeks ;  then,  controlling  his  feelings 
with  an  effort,  he  took  the  babe  in  his  arms,  and, 
approaching  his  lips  to  its  ear,  "  God  is  great," 
he  murmured,  "  there  is  no  god  but  God,  and 
Mohammed  is  his  prophet."  More  tranquil  after 
this  prayer,  he  gazed  lovingly  at  his  son.  "  O 
gift  of  God  !  "  cried  he,  "  thou  art  but  a  week  old, 
but,  to  see  thy  strength  and  grace,  one  would  take 
thee  for  a  year  at  least.  Thy  face  shines  like  the 
full  moon  !  Say,"  said  he,  turning  to  the  mother, 
"  what  have  you  named  him?  " 


THE  JOY  OF   THE  HOUSE.  13 

"  If  God  had  afflicted  me  with  a  daughter," 
answered  the  Ethiopian,  "I  should  have  chosen 
a  name  for  her ;  but  since  I  have  had  the  glory 
of  bringing  a  man-child  into  the  world,  to  you 
belongs  that  honor.  Beware,  however,  of  too 
ambitious  a  name,  which  might  arouse  the  jealousy 
of  the  evil  eye." 

Mansour  was  reflecting,  when  suddenly  he 
heard  a  noise  in  the  street.  A  Persian  dervish 
was  driving  before  him  an  ass  laden  with  provis- 
ions, while  a  crowd  of  children  was  following  the 
heretic,  and  showering  him  with  abuse  and  blows. 
The  dervish  pressed  forward  like  a  man  who 
neither  feared  nor  sought  martyrdom,  stopping 
now  and  then  to  rail  at  his  enemies.  "  Accursed 
be  thou,  O  Omar  !  " 1  cried  he,  striking  the  ass, 
"  and  accursed  be  all  who  resemble  thee  !  "  "  Be- 
hold a  new  proof  of  my  happiness  !  "  cried  Man- 
sour.  "  My  child  shall  be  called  Omar ;  such  a 
name  will  ward  off  the  evil  eye,  and  preserve 
him  from  all  witchcraft." 

As  he  was  replacing  the  babe  in  the  cradle,  a 
Bedouin  woman  entered  the  room  with  an  infant 
in  her  arms.  She  was  tall  and  well  formed ;  her 
face  was  unveiled,  as  is  the  custom  in  the  desert ; 
and  her  mien  was  so  graceful  and  dignified  that, 
poorly  clad  as  she  was,  she  might  have  been 
taken  for  a  sultana. 

"Welcome,  Halima,"  said  Mansour.  "I  have 
1  Homar  or  Omar  in  Arabic  signifies  an  ass. 


14  ABDALLAH, 

not  forgotten  that  Yusuf,  your  husband,  fell  in  my 
service  while  defending  my  last  caravan.  The 
moment  has  come  to  prove  that  I  am  not  un- 
grateful. You  know  what  I  expect  of  you.  If  I 
cannot  make  my  son  a  sherif  or  give  him  the 
green  turban,  I  can  at  least  cause  him  to  be 
brought  up  like  the  son  of  a  sherif,  under  a  tent, 
among  the  noble  Beni  Amurs.  Admitted  into 
your  family,  and  nurtured  with  your  son,  my  be- 
loved Omar  will  learn  a  purer  speech  than  mine, 
and  will  find  friends  among  your  kindred  who  will 
protect  him  in  after  years.  On  my  side,  I  shall 
fittingly  recognize  and  reward  your  devotion. 
Let  the  friendship  of  our  children  begin  from  this 
day;  from  this  day  let  them  sleep  in  the  same 
cradle.  To-morrow  you  shall  carry  them  away, 
that  they  may  grow  up  together  in  your  tribe. 
Omar  shall  be  your  son  as  Abdallah  shall  be 
mine ;  may  Fortune  smile  on  both  ! " 

"  May  God  be  their  refuge  against  Satan,  the 
accursed  ! "  answered  Halima,  bowing  her  head. 
"  We  are  in  God's  hands ;  to  him  we  must  return." 

Mansour  looked  at  her,  smiling.  He  was  a  free- 
thinker, and  had  little  faith  in  God,  although  his 
name  was  constantly  on  his  lips.  He  had  lived 
too  long,  and  mixed  too  much  with  men,  to  be- 
lieve that  God  meddles  much  with  the  affairs  of 
this  world ;  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  a  strong 
belief  in  the  Devil,  of  whom  he  stood  in  great  fear. 
The  only  action  in  his  whole  life  for  which  he  re- 


THE  JOY  OF    THE  HOUSE.  15 

proached  himself  was  that  of  having  thrown  seven 
stones  at  the  great  Devil  of  Jamrat  at  the  time  of 
his  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  and  he  still  feared  the 
rancor  of  Satan,  whom  he  had  stoned.  Doubt- 
less he  was  proud  of  having  cheaply  earned  the 
noble  title  of  hadji,1  which  rendered  him  worthy 
of  respect  in  the  eyes  of  his  customers ;  it  was  with 
the  purest  devotion  that  he  spoke  of  the  Caaba,2 
that  gem  of  Paradise  placed  by  Father  Abraham 
in  the  holy  city  of  Mecca,  but  at  heart  he  was  not 
easy  respecting  the  consequences  of  his  impru- 
dence, and  would  even  have  surrendered  the  name 
of  hadji  to  have  been  sure  of  the  Devil's  forgive- 
ness for  his  rashness. 

1  Hadji,  or  saint,  is  the  name  given  to  those  who  have 
made  the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca. 

2  The  holy  house,  or  principal  temple  of  Mecca. 


II. 

THE    HOROSCOPE. 

|HE  same  evening,  just  as  the  moon  was 
rising,  the  wise  Mansour  entered  the 
room  where  the  two  children  were  sleep- 
ing peacefully  in  each  other's  arms,  fol- 
lowed by  a  ragged  dervish,  with  a  dirty,  uncombed 
beard,  bearing  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  reviled 
heretic  of  the  morning.  He  was  one  of  those 
shameless  beggars  who  seek  the  fortunes  of  others 
in  the  stars  without  ever  finding  their  own  therein, 
and  who,  always  pursued  and  hooted  at,  and  al- 
ways employed,  will  last  as  long  as  the  malice  of 
Satan,  or  the  avarice  and  credulity  of  men.  Hal- 
ima  was  unwilling  to  leave  the  children  with  this 
suspicious  personage,  but  Mansour  commanded  it, 
and  she  was  forced  to  obey.  Scarcely  had  she 
quitted  the  room  when  the  Egyptian  led  the  der- 
vish to  the  cradle,  and  ordered  him  to  draw  his 
son's  horoscope. 

After  attentively  gazing  at  the  child,  the  astrol- 
oger mounted  the  house-top  and  observed  the 


THE  HOROSCOPE.  I^ 

stars ;  then,  taking  a  coal,  he  traced  a  large  circle, 
divided  into  several  compartments,  in  which  he 
placed  the  planets,  and  at  length  declared  that 
the  heavens  were  not  inauspicious.  If  Mars  and 
Venus  were  indifferent,  Mercury,  on  the  contrary, 
appeared  under  a  better  aspect.  This  was  all  he 
could  tell  for  the  two  sequins  that  Mansour  had 
given  him. 

The  merchant  led  the  diviner  back  to  the  cham- 
ber, and  showing  him  two  large  doubloons,  "Is 
there  no  means,"  said  he,  "of  knowing  more? 
Have  the  stars  already  revealed  all  their  secrets?  " 

"Art  is  infinite,"  answered  the  dervish,  pounc- 
ing on  the  gold  ;  "  I  can  also  tell  you  under  the 
influence  of  what  sign  the  child  is  destined  to 
live." 

Drawing  from  his  girdle  a  cabalistic  tablet  and 
a  bronze  pen,  the  astrologer  wrote  the  names  of 
the  child  and  the  mother,  placing  the  letters  in  a 
line;  he  then  calculated  ihe  numerical  value  of 
the  letters,  and  looking  at  Mansour  with  spark- 
ling eyes,  "  Happy  father,"  he  said,  "  your  son  is 
born  under  the  sign  of  the  Balance  ;  if  he  lives,  he 
may  expect  everything  from  fortune." 

"What,  if  he  lives!"  cried  Mansour.  "What 
is  it  that  you  read  on  that  accursed  tablet  ?  Does 
any  danger  threaten  my  son?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  the  dervish,  "a  danger  which  I 
cannot  define.  His  best  friend  will  be  his  worst 
enemy." 


1 8  ABD  ALLAH. 

"Ha!  what  was  I  about  to  do?"  said  the 
Egyptian.  "  Perchance  this  Bedouin  child,  whom 
I  have  placed  in  my  son's  cradle,  will  one  day  be 
his  murderer?  If  I  thought  so,  I  would  strangle 
him  on  the  spot." 

"  Beware  of  it,"  returned  the  diviner.  "  If  your 
son's  life  is  bound  up  with  that  of  this  child,  you 
will  only  kill  them  both  at  one  blow.  There  is  no 
proof  that  this  Bedouin,  destined  to  dwell  among 
the  tents,  will  one  day  be  the  best  friend  of  the 
richest  merchant  of  Djiddah.  Besides,  what  ref- 
uge is  there  against  destiny?  Can  you  change 
what  is  traced  by  the  pen  of  the  angels?  What 
is  written  is  written." 

"  Doubtless,"  said  the  merchant ;  "  but  God  — 
his  name  be  exalted  !  —  has  said,  in  the  Book  of 
Books,  '  Cast  not  yourselves  down  with  your  own 
hands  into  perdition.'  " 

"The  day  of  death,"  returned  the  dervish, 
gravely,  "  is  one  of  the  five  mysteries,  the  key  of 
which  God  holds  in  his  own  hands.  Do  you  re- 
member the  story  of  the  man  who  was  with  Solo- 
mon one  day  when  Azrael  passed  by  the  king  in 
a  visible  shape  ?  Frightened  by  the  look  cast  on 
him  by  the  terrible  stranger,  he  asked  who  he 
was;  and  upon  Solomon's  acquainting  him  that 
it  was  the  angel  of  death, '  He  seems  to  want  me," 
said  he ;  '  wherefore  order  the  wind  to  carry  me 
hence  to  India.'  Which  being  accordingly  done, 
the  angel  said  to  Solomon,  '  I  looked  so  earnestly 


THE  HOROSCOPE.  19 

at  this  man  out  of  wonder,  because  I  was  com- 
manded to  take  his  soul  in  India,  and  found  him 
with  thee  in  Palestine.' 

"'  No  man  can  flee  from  death.     Do  as  he  will, 
Falls  soon  or  late  the  arm  ere  raised  to  strike ; 
The  sage  is  he  who  looks  it  in  the  face, 
Nor  fears  nor  braves  the  doom  decreed  by  fate.'  " 

With  these  words  the  astrologer  bowed  to  take 
leave  of  Mansour,  who  clutched  his  robe. 

"Have  you  anything  more  to  ask  me?"  said 
the  dervish,  looking  attentively  at  the  Egyptian. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  merchant ;  "  but  I  dare  not 
give  utterance  to  my  thoughts.  Yet  you  seem  to 
me  a  friend,  and  you  will  pardon  a  father's  weak- 
ness, where  his  son's  interest  is  concerned.  A 
wise  man  like  you,  who  reads  the  stars,  must  have 
carried  your  curiosity  to  great  lengths.  It  is  said 
that  there  are  men  who,  by  dint  of  science,  have 
discovered  the  great  name  of  God,  —  that  name 
which  has  been  revealed  only  to  the  apostles  and 
the  Prophet  (his  name  be  blessed  !)  ;  that  name 
which  suffices  to  raise  the  dead  and  kill  the  living  ; 
that  name  which  causes  the  world  to  tremble, 
and  compels  the  infernal  powers  and  Eblis l  him- 
self to  obey  it  like  a  slave.  Do  you  perchance 
know  one  of  these  learned  men,  and  do  you  think 
that  he  would  refuse  to  oblige  a  man  who  had  not 
the  reputation  of  being  ungrateful?" 

1  One  of  the  names  of  Satan  among  the  Arabs. 


20  ABDALLAH. 

"You  are  prudence  itself,"  returned  the  astrolo- 
ger, in  a  low  voice,  approaching  Mansour ;  "  you 
may  be  trusted ;  yet  words  are  naught  but  wind, 
and  the  fairest  promises  like  dreams  that  take 
flight  with  the  morning." 

For  his  sole  reply  Mansour  thrust  his  right  arm 
into  the  dervish's  long  sleeve,  and  placed  one  fin- 
ger in  his  hand. 

"  A  purse  ! " l  exclaimed  the  astrologer,  in  a 
disdainful  tone ;  "  it  is  the  price  of  a  camel. 
What  madman  would  evoke  Satan  at  the  risk  of 
his  own  life  for  such  a  trifle?" 

The  Egyptian  stretched  out  a  second  finger, 
looking  at  the  dervish,  whose  face  wore  an  air  of 
indifference  ;  then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  he 
heaved  a  deep  sigh  and  placed  a  third  finger  in 
the  dervish's  hand. 

"  Three  purses,"  said  the  astrologer ;  "  it  is  the 
cost  of  an  infidel  slave.  The  soul  of  a  Mussulman 
cannot  be  bought  at  such  a  price.  Let  us  part, 
Mansour,  and  forget  the  imprudent  words  you 
have  spoken." 

"  Do  not  abandon  me  !  "  cried  the  merchant, 
grasping  the  dervish's  arm  with  his  whole  hand. 
"  Five  purses  are  a  large  sum,  and  all  that  I  can 
give.  If  necessary,  I  add  to  it  the  offer  of  my 
soul;  our  common  peril  will  answer  to  you  for 
my  discretion." 

"  Give  me  the  five  purses,  then,"  returned  the 
1  A  purse  is  about  ^5  2s.  qd. 


THE  HOROSCOPE.  21 

magician,  "  and  my  friendship  shall  do  the  rest. 
I  own  my  weakness ;  I  have  been  unable  to  see 
you  without  being  drawn  to  you  :  may  this  yield- 
ing not  cost  me  too  dear  !  " 

Mansour  brought  the  money.  The  dervish 
weighed  it  several  times,  and  placed  it  in  his  gir- 
dle with  the  tranquillity  of  a  resolute  heart ;  then, 
taking  the  lamp,  he  walked  three  times  round  the 
cradle,  murmuring  strange  words,  waving  the  light 
before  the  child's  face,  and  prostrating  himself 
again  and  again  at  the  four  corners  of  the  room, 
followed  by  Mansour,  who  trembled  with  fear  and 
anxiety. 

After  all  these  ceremonies,  which  appeared  end- 
less to  the  merchant,  the  magician  placed  the 
lamp  on  a  bench  along  the  wall,  and  taking  a  lit- 
tle box  from  his  inexhaustible  girdle,  poured  a 
black  powder  upon  the  burning  wick.  A  thick 
smoke  instantly  filled  the  whole  room,  amid  which 
Mansour  fancied  that  he  saw  the  infernal  figure 
and  flaming  eyes  of  an  Afrite.1  The  dervish 
seized  him  by  the  arm,  and  both  threw  themselves 
on  the  carpet,  their  faces  buried  in  their  hands. 

"  Speak,"  said  the  dervish,  in  a  breathless 
voice,  "  speak,  but  do  not  lift  your  head  as  you 
value  your  life.  Make  three  wishes.  Eblis  is 
here,  and  will  grant  your  prayer." 

"  I  wish  that  my  son  may  be  rich  all  his  life," 
murmured  Mansour. 

1  One  of  the  infernal  genii. 


22  ADD  ALLAH, 

"  So  be  it !  "  returned  a  strange  voice,  which 
seemed  to  come  from  the  other  end  of  the  room, 
though  Mansour  had  seen  the  apparition  before 
him. 

"  I  wish  that  my  son  may  always  have  good 
health,"  continued  the  Egyptian,  "  for,  without 
health,  of  what  use  is  fortune?" 

"  So  be  it !  "  returned  the  voice. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Mansour  hesi- 
tated as  to  his  third  wish.  "Shall  I  wish  for  wit?" 
thought  he.  "  No,  he  is  my  son,  and  he  will  inherit 
his  father's  cunning."  The  dervish's  prediction 
suddenly  recurred  to  his  memory.  "Threat- 
ened by  his  best  friend,"  thought  he,  "  there  is 
but  one  means  of  safety  for  him  ;  namely,  to  love 
no  one,  and  to  think  of  himself  alone.  Besides, 
anxiety  for  others  spoils  our  own  life,  and  those 
we  oblige  are  always  ungrateful.  I  wish  that  my  son 
may  love  no  one  but  himself,"  said  he,  at  length. 

"  So  be  it,"  returned  the  voice,  with  a  terrible 
cry,  which  frightened  the  Egyptian  so  much  that 
he  remained  motionless  till  the  dervish  pulled  the 
skirt  of  his  robe  and  commanded  him  to  rise.  At 
the  same  moment  a  jet  of  flame  shot  from  the 
lamp,  and  the  whole  room  seemed  in  a  blaze. 
Mansour,  terrified  at  his  own  rashness,  rushed  to 
the  door  to  assure  himself  that  he  was  still  alive 
and  that  nothing  had  changed  in  the  house. 

While  the  dervish  was  putting  on  his  cloak  and 
sandals  like  a  man  whom  habit  hardens  against 


THE  HOROSCOPE.  23 

fear,  a  woman  rushed  to  the  cradle  of  the  infants. 
It  was  Halima,  who  had  remained  near  the  room 
during  the  enchantment,  and  whose  terror  had 
been  heightened  by  Mansour's  sudden  departure. 
Her  first  care  was  to  wet  her  finger  with  her  lips 
and  pass  it  over  the  forehead  of  the  children,  re- 
peating a  formula  to  ward  off  the  evil  eye.  The 
serenity  of  the  dervish  reassured  her ;  she  blamed 
herself  for  having  suspected  this  pious  personage 
of  magic,  who  wore  on  his  face  the  blissful  tran- 
quillity of  sanctity,  and,  respectfully  approaching 
him,  she  kissed  the  hem  of  his  robe.  "  Holy 
man,"  said  she,  "  my  son  is  an  orphan,  and  I  am 
a  poor  woman ;  I  can  offer  you  nothing  but 
gratitude,  but — " 

"  Well,  well,"  exclaimed  the  astrologer,  "  I 
know  in  advance  what  you  would  ask  of  me,  — 
that  your  son  should  be  rich,  is  it  not?  For  this, 
what  need  have  you  of  my  aid?  Make  him  a 
merchant,  and  let  him  steal  like  old  Mansour; 
make  him  a  pacha,  and  let  him  pillage  his 
brethren;  make  him  a  dervish,  and  let  him  flat- 
ter and  lie.  All  the  vices  lead  to  fortune  when 
they  are  joined  with  the  vilest  of  all, — avarice. 
This  is  the  secret  of  life.  Adieu." 

"This  is  not  what  I  wish,"  said  the  astonished 
Halima ;  "  you  do  wrong  to  deride  me  in  this 
way.  My  son  will  be  an  honest  man  like  his 
father ;  and  what  I  wish  is  that  he  may  be  happy 
here  on  earth." 


24  ABDALLAH. 

"  Virtuous  and  happy  !  "  cried  the  dervish,  with 
a  sardonic  laugh ;  "  and  you  address  yourself  to 
me !  My  good  woman,  what  you  want  is  the 
four-leaved  shamrock,  which  none  has  seen  since 
Adam.  Let  your  son  seek  it ;  if  he  finds  it,  be 
sure  that  he  will  lack  for  nothing." 

"What  is  the  four-leaved  shamrock?"  cried 
the  anxious  mother;  but  the  magician  had  dis- 
appeared, never  more  to  return.  Man  or  demon, 
none  has  since  beheld  him.  Halima,  full  of  emo- 
tion, bent  over  the  cradle  and  gazed  at  her  son, 
who  seemed  to  smile  on  her  in  his  sleep.  "  Rest 
in  peace,"  said  she,  "  and  rely  on  my  love.  I 
know  not  what  this  talisman  is  of  which  the  der- 
vish speaks,  but,  child  of  my  soul !  we  will  seek 
it  together,  and  something  tells  me  that  you  will 
find  it.  Satan  is  cunning  and  man  is  weak,  but 
God  rules  the  heart  of  his  faithful,  and  does  what 
he  will." 


III. 

EDUCATION. 

N    choosing   the    Bedouin    woman    to 

whom  to  intrust  Omar,  Mansour  had 
given  a  new  proof  of  his  usual  pru- 
dence. From  the  first  day  Halima 
showed  her  nursling  all  a  mother's  affection,  and 
tended  him  more  carefully  than  her  own  offspring. 
When  she  was  forced  to  leave  her  tent,  the  cher- 
ished child  that  she  carried  on  her  shoulder  was 
always  Et  Tagir,  or  the  little  merchant,  as  Omar 
was  called  among  the  Beni  Amurs.  Yet  what  a 
difference  was  there  between  the  two  brothers  ! 
Tall,  slender,  supple,  and  agile,  with  his  clear  eyes 
and  brilliant  complexion,  Abdallah  would  have 
filled  any  father's  heart  with  pride ;  while  the 
son  of  Mansour,  with  his  swarthy  skin,  thick  neck, 
and  round  paunch,  was  only  an  Egyptian  astray 
in  the  desert.  What  mattered  it  to  the  Bedouin 
woman?  Had  she  not  nourished  them  both  with 
the  same  milk?  Who  knows  even  whether,  like 


26  ABDALLAH. 

a  true  mother,  she  had  not  a  secret  weakness  for 
the  child  which  had  the  most  need  of  her  love  ? 

As  he  grew,  Abdallah  soon  showed  all  the 
nobleness  of  his  race.  On  seeing  him  with  the 
Egyptian,  one  would  have  said  that  he  already  felt 
himself  the  master  of  the  tent,  and  was  proud  of 
exercising  the  rites  of  hospitality.  Although  but 
six  months  older  than  Omar,  he  made  himself  his 
brother's  guardian  and  protector,  and  his  greatest 
pleasure  was  to  amuse,  serve,  and  defend  him. 
In  all  the  games  and  feasts,  he  insisted  on  giving 
the  little  merchant  the  best  place ;  and  whenever 
a  quarrel  arose,  it  was  always  he,  and  he  alone, 
that  fought,  adroit,  strong,  and  hardy,  like  a  son 
of  the  desert. 

Omar  willingly  remained  in  the  background,  as 
if  he  already  understood  the  advantage  to  be  de- 
rived from  an  uncalculating  friendship.  As  indo- 
lent as  a  dweller  in  cities,  he  seldom  quitted  the 
tent.  The  Bedouin  ran  between  the  legs  of  the 
mares,  wrestled  with  the  colts,  and  climbed 
the  camels  without  making  them  kneel;  the 
Egyptian,  his  legs  crossed  on  a  mat,  passed  the 
greater  part  of  the  day  in  sleeping,  and  felt 
naught  but  disdain  for  the  noisy  exploits  which 
made  the  joy  of  Abdallah.  When  he  mixed  with 
other  children,  it  was  only  to  play  merchant  with 
them.  The  son  of  Mansour  had  singular  skill  in 
bartering  a  date  for  a  citron,  a  citron  for  an 
orange,  and  an  orange  for  a  piece  of  coral  or 


EDUCATION.  27 

some  other  toy.  At  ten  years  of  age  Omar  had 
already  found  that  the  best  use  of  a  rosary  was  to 
aid  in  counting.  He  was  not,  however,  ungrate- 
ful ;  he  loved  his  brother  after  his  fashion.  He 
showered  innumerable  caresses  on  Abdallah,  who 
seldom  returned  home  without  bringing  bananas, 
pomegranates,  apricots,  or  some  other  fruit  that 
had  been  given  him  by  the  women  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, who  were  charmed  with  his  grace  and 
sprightliness.  By  dint  of  tenderness,  Omar 
always  secured  what  he  wished ;  but  he  was  not 
better  pleased  with  the  success  of  his  cunning 
than  was  his  brother  in  letting  himself  be  de- 
spoiled by  the  one  he  loved.  Each  of  us  is 
born  with  his  destiny  clinging  about  his  neck 
like  a  heavy  collar,  and  hurrying  him  onward; 
a  fox  nurtured  by  a  lioness  will  always  be  a 
fox,  and  a  merchant's  son  will  never  make  a 
Bedouin. 

At  the  age  of  ten,  thanks  to  Halima,  Abdallah's 
education  was  finished ;  he  knew  all  that  a  Beni 
Amur  needed  to  know.  The  son  of  Yusuf  could 
recite  the  genealogy  of  his  family  and  tribe ;  he 
knew  the  pedigree,  name,  surname,  coat,  and 
brand  of  all  the  horses ;  he  could  read  in  the 
stars  the  hour  of  the  night,  and  the  shadows  told 
him  the  time  of  the  day.  No  one  knew  better 
how  to  make  the  camels  kneel ;  no  one  chanted 
to  them  in  a  more  melodious  voice  those  sweet 
songs  which  shorten  their  way  and  make  them 


28  ABD  ALLAH. 

quicken  their  pace,  despite  fatigue  and  heat. 
Already  even,  he  handled  the  gun  and  brandished 
the  lance  and  sabre  as  if  he  had  been  in  half  a 
score  of  caravans.  Halima  contemplated  his 
youthful  courage  with  tears  of  joy,  happy  to  see 
that  the  child  whom  she  had  brought  into  the 
world  would  some  day  be  the  honor  of  his  peo- 
ple and  the  delight  of  his  tribe. 

Halima  was  a  true  Mussulman ;  she  knew  that 
wisdom,  strength,  and  consolation  are  in  God 
alone.  The  children  were  scarcely  seven  years 
old  when  she  had  already  taught  them  to  recite 
the  five  prayers  and  make  the  ablutions.  In  the 
morning,  as  soon  as  a  faint  light  illumed  the  east ; 
at  noon,  when  the  sun  turned ;  in  the  afternoon, 
when  the  shadows  began  to  lengthen;  at  even, 
when  the  sun  set  in  the  horizon ;  and,  lastly,  at 
night,  when  darkness  covered  the  earth,  —  Omar 
and  Abdallah  stretched  the  carpet  of  prayer  upon 
the  ground,  and  turning  toward  Mecca,  repeated 
the  holy  words  which  comprise  all  religion, 
"  There  is  no  god  but  God,  and  Mohammed  is 
his  prophet."  The  prayer  ended,  Halima  loved 
to  repeat  to  the  children  the  precepts  of  Ayesha, 
—  precepts  which  she  made  the  rule  of  her  life. 
"  Sons  of  my  soul !  "  she  would  say  to  them, 
"  listen  to  what  Ayesha,  the  beloved  spouse  of  the 
Prophet,  the  peerless  virgin,  and  the  mother  of 
the  faithful,  replied  to  a  Mussulman  who  asked 
her  counsel.  Remember  these  holy  maxims; 


EDUCATION.  29 

they  are  the  legacy  of  the  Prophet  himself,  and 
the  pearl  of  truth  :  — 

"Acknowledge  that  there  is  but  one  God 
alone ;  remain  steadfast  in  the  faith ;  instruct 
yourself;  bridle  your  tongue  ;  repress  your  wrath  ; 
forbear  to  do  evil ;  associate  with  the  good ; 
screen  the  faults  of  your  neighbor;  relieve  the 
poor  by  your  alms;  and  expect  your  reward  in 
eternity." 

The  two  children  were  thus  brought  up,  sur- 
rounded with  the  same  love,  and  a  love  so  tender 
and  equal  that  the  two  brothers  never  suspected 
that  they  were  not  of  the  same  blood.  One  day, 
however,  an  old  man  entered  the  tent,  armed 
with  a  tablet  of  wood,  painted  white,  on  which 
elegant  characters  were  traced  in  black.  The 
sheik  enjoyed  great  renown  in  the  tribe ;  it  was 
said  that  he  had  formerly  studied  at  Cairo  in  El 
Azar,  that  splendid  mosque,  the  fountain  of  light, 
which  is  the  joy  of  the  faithful  and  the  despair  of 
infidels.  He  was  so  learned  that  he  could  read 
the  Koran,  and  copy  with  a  reed  the  ninety-nine 
names  of  God,  and  the  Fat-hah.1  To  the  great 
astonishment  of  the  Bedouin,  the  old  man,  after 
talking  in  a  low  tone  to  Halima,  who  put  a  purse 
in  his  hand,  turned  his  sole  attention  to  the  son 
of  Mansour,  caressed  him  with  paternal  tender- 
ness, seated  him  by  his  side,  put  the  tablet  in  his 

1  The  first  chapter  of  the  Koran,  and  the  usual  prayer 
of  the  Mussulmen. 


30  ABDALLAH. 

hands,  and  after  teaching  him  how  to  sway  the 
head  and  body  to  aid  the  memory,  made  him 
chant  the  whole  alphabet  after  him.  Omar  took 
so  lively  an  interest  in  his  lesson  that  on  the  very 
first  day  he  learned  the  numerical  value  of  all  the 
letters.  The  sheik  embraced  him  anew,  promis- 
ing him  that,  if  he  went  on  in  this  way,  he  would 
soon  be  more  learned  than  his  master,  and  quitted 
the  tent  without  even  looking  at  Abdallah. 

The  poor  boy's  heart  swelled  at  the  sight  of 
this  lesson  of  his  brother's,  by  which  he  would 
have  gladly  profited.  He  was  spared  a  second 
trial.  The  next  morning  he  was  sent  to  the  fields 
to  tend  his  mother's  sheep.  He  was  not  alone ; 
he  had  been  placed  in  the  care  of  a  maternal 
uncle,  a  one-eyed  and  crippled  old  shepherd,  but 
a  man  of  good  counsel.  Hafiz,  for  this  was  the 
name  of  Halima's  brother,  was  a  brave  soldier 
and  a  pious  Mussulman,  who  had  seen  much  and 
suffered  much.  The  companion  of  Yusuf,  Abdal- 
lah's  father,  and  wounded  by  his  side,  he  was  the 
last  prop  of  an  almost  extinct  family,  and,  alone 
and  childless  as  he  was,  he  loved  his  nephew  as 
his  own  son. 

It  was  he  that  had  opposed  the  plan  of  making 
Abdallah  a  scholar.  "  Would  you  know  more 
than  the  Prophet,  whom  may  God  protect  and 
bless  ?  "  said  he  to  the  young  Bedouin.  "  What 
would  you  read,  —  the  Koran  ?  But  is  it  on  vile 
rags  or  your  own  heart  that  its  sacred  words 


EDUCATION.  31 

should  be  engraved?  Strange  books  —  what  is 
the  use?  Is  not  everything  contained  in  the 
Koran?  Is  it  not  for  rash  spirits  who  seek  the 
truth  elsewhere  that  it  is  written,  '  The  likeness  of 
those  who  take  other  patrons  besides  God  is  as 
the  likeness  of  the  spider,  which  maketh  herself 
a  house ;  but  the  weakest  of  all  houses,  surely, 
is  the  house  of  the  spider,  if  they  knew  this.' 
Those  whose  minds  are  swallowed  up  in  books 
are  like  asses  laden  with  foreign  wealth,  which 
serves  only  to  weigh  them  down.  Man  was  not 
born  to  amass  the  thoughts  of  others,  but  to  act 
for  himself.  Go  forward,  my  son,  with  an  up- 
right heart,  and  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord.  At  the 
age  of  strength  God  will  give  thee  wisdom  and 
knowledge  as  to  the  son  of  Jacob.  It  is  thus  that 
he  rewards  the  just,  for  himself  has  said  it." 

These  words  kindled  Abdallah's  heart.  Every 
day,  when  the  noontide  heat  confined  them  within 
the  tent,  Hafiz  recited  to  the  son  of  Yusuf  a  few 
verses  of  the  holy  book,  and  made  him  repeat 
them  after  him  in  turn.  In  this  way,  by  degrees, 
he  taught  him  the  whole  Koran,  beginning,  after 
the  Fat-hah,  with  the  short  chapters  On  Men, 
The  Daybreak,  and  The  Unity  of  God,  and  end- 
ing with  the  long  and  beautiful  teachings  con- 
tained in  the  chapters  On  Women,  The  Family  of 
Imran,  and  The  Cow.  The  child  was  like  the  sands 
of  the  desert,  which  drink  up  the  rain-drops  with- 
out losing  a  single  one  ;  he  never  wearied  of  chant- 


32  ABDALLAH. 

ing  this  rhythmic  prose,  as  superior  to  poetry  as 
the  Word  of  God  is  to  that  of  men.  Day  and 
night  he  repeated  these  precepts,  in  which  elo- 
quence and  wisdom  are  strung  together  like  pearls 
in  a  necklace.  Whenever  a  good  Mussulman 
wished  to  give  a  feast  to  his  comrades  or  to  pay 
honors  to  the  tomb  of  a  friend,  the  lame  shep- 
herd and  his  disciple  were  called  upon  to  recite 
the  whole  Koran  or  one  of  its  thirty  sections. 
Seated  on  the  ground  around  the  master  and 
pupil,  the  Beni  Amurs  greedily  drank  in  the  divine 
words.  "  God  is  great !  "  they  exclaimed.  "  Ga- 
briel himself  was  not  more  beautiful  than  this 
young  man  when  he  deposited  the  eternal  revela- 
tion in  the  heart  of  the  Prophet." 

Hafiz  not  only  taught  his  nephew  the  text  of 
the  Koran,  but  also  repeated  to  him  the  words  of 
the  Prophet  which  have  been  handed  down  to  us 
by  his  friends.  He  taught  him  the  four  great  duties 
enjoined  by  God  on  all  who  would  be  saved,  —  the 
five  daily  prayers,  the  giving  of  one  fortieth  in 
alms,  the  fast  of  Ramadan,  and  the  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca ;  and  held  up  to  his  detestation  the  seven 
great  sins,  —  those  sins  which  beget  seven  hundred 
others,  and  which  destroy  the  soul,  —  idolatry, 
that  crime  which  God,  according  to  his  explicit 
declaration,  never  pardons ;  murder ;  the  charge  of 
adultery  falsely  brought  against  an  honest  woman ; 
wrong  done  to  orphans ;  usury ;  flight  in  an  ex- 
pedition against  the  infidels ;  and  disobedience  to 


EDUCATION.  33 

parents.  "  Oh,  my  son,"  he  exclaimed,  at  the 
close  of  each  lesson,  "  thou  who,  by  the  decree 
of  God,  hast  been  placed  among  the  number  of 
those  who  have  received  the  Scriptures,  daily 
repeat  that  divine  promise  which  is  our  whole 
strength  and  comfort  here  below  :  '  Whoever  obey- 
eth  God  and  the  apostle,  they  shall  be  with  those 
unto  whom  God  has  been  gracious,  of  the  proph- 
ets, and  the  sincere,  and  the  martyrs,  and  the 
righteous,  and  these  are  most  excellent  company. 
This  is  bounty  from  God,  and  from  God  nothing 
is  hidden.'  " 

In  order  not  to  weary  Abdallah,  Hafiz  often 
interspersed  his  teachings  with  the  stories  of  some 
of  those  innumerable  prophets  to  whose  keeping 
God  confided  the  truth  while  awaiting  the  coming 
of  Mohammed.  Sometimes  it  was  Adam,  our 
first  father,  to  whom  God  in  his  goodness  taught 
the  name  of  every  living  thing  on  earth.  By  the 
command  of  the  Lord,  these  creatures,  born  of 
fire,  adored  man,  born  of  the  dust  of  the  earth. 
A  single  one  refused,  the  ungrateful  Eblis,  urged 
by  his  pride  to  destruction.  Unhappily,  Adam 
and  Eve  suffered  themselves  to  be  tempted  by  the 
enemy,  and  ate  of  the  forbidden  fruit.  To  punish 
their  disobedience,  God  drove  them  from  Para- 
dise. Adam  was  flung  upon  the  island  of  Serendib, 
where  his  footprint  may  still  be  seen,  and  Eve 
fell  at  Djiddah,  where  she  was  doomed  to  live  two 
centuries  in  solitude.  God,  however,  at  last  took 
3 


34  ABDALLAH. 

pity  on  the  unhappy  couple,  and  Gabriel  again  re- 
united them  on  Mount  Arafat,  near  that  miracu- 
lous spot  where  Abraham  and  Ishmael  were  to 
found  the  holy  Caaba. 

At  another  time  the  cripple  would  tell  how  God 
showed  Abraham  the  kingdom  of  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  that  he  might  know  true  science. 
Reared  in  the  faith  of  his  fathers,  the  son  of  Azer 
worshipped  the  stars.  When  the  night  over- 
shadowed him,  he  saw  a  star  and  cried,  "  This  is 
my  Lord  !  "  but  when  it  set  he  said,  "  I  like  not 
gods  which  set."  And  when  he  saw  the  moon 
rising  he  cried,  "This  is  my  Lord  !  "  but  when  he 
saw  it  set  he  said,  "  Verily,  if  my  Lord  direct  me 
not,  I  shall  become  as  one  of  the  people  who  go 
astray."  And  when  he  saw  the  sun  rising  he  said, 
"  This  is  my  Lord ;  this  is  the  greatest !  "  but 
when  he  saw  it  set  he  said,  "  Oh,  my  people,  I 
am  clear  of  your  idolatrous  worship."  The  son 
of  Azer  understood  that  the  stars  scattered  through 
the  heavens  revealed  a  higher  hand,  as  the  foot- 
prints on  the  sand  tell  of  the  traveller  that  has 
gone  before. 

Like  a  true  Mussulman,  Abraham  had  no  sooner 
found  the  true  faith  than  he  broke  all  the  idols  of 
his  people  except  Baal,  on  whose  neck  he  hung 
the  axe  with  which  he  had  demolished  them. 
When  the  furious  Chaldeans  asked  who  had  treated 
their  gods  in  such  a  manner,  "It  is  Baal,"  said 
Abraham ;  "  ask  him,  and  see  what  he  will  answer 


EDUCATION.  35 

you."  "An  idol  cannot  speak,"  cried  the  Chal- 
deans; and  they  said,"  Thou  art  an  unbeliever  !  " 
But  who  can  enlighten  those  who  have  eyes,  yet 
see  not !  They  are  blinded  by  the  very  light  of 
truth.  Furious  at  having  been  discomfited  by  a 
child,  Nimrod,  the  King  of  the  Chaldeans,  ordered 
Abraham  to  be  thrown  into  a  fiery  furnace.  Vain 
cruelty !  The  Lord  Eternal  holds  the  power  of 
life  and  death.  By  the  command  of  God,  the 
fire  consumed  none  but  the  unbelievers.  For 
Abraham,  the  funeral  pile  turned  to  a  verdant 
meadow,  and  the  flames  that  surrounded  him  to  a 
cool  and  refreshing  breeze.  It  is  thus  that  the 
Lord  lifts  up  the  just  and  humbles  the  proud. 

Who  could  exhaust  the  sacred  stories  which  have 
been  handed  down  to  us  by  the  Koran  and  tradi- 
tion? They  are  more  numerous  and  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  stars  in  a  summer  sky.  Hafiz  told 
them  as  he  had  received  them  from  his  fathers, 
and  Abdallah  repeated  them  with  the  like  ardor 
and  faith.  Sometimes  it  was  of  David,  the  black- 
smith king,  to  whom  God  taught  the  art  of  fabri- 
cating coats  of  mail  to  protect  the  faithful ;  some- 
times it  was  of  Solomon,  under  whose  dominion 
the  Lord  placed  the  winds,  the  birds,  and  the 
genii.  Or  it  was  of  Balkis,  the  Queen  of  Sheba, 
when,  seated  on  her  throne  of  gold  and  silver  set 
with  precious  stones,  she  received  Solomon's  letter, 
brought  her  by  a  bird,  kissed  the  seal,  at  which 
Satan  trembled,  and  became  a  Mussulman  at  the 


36  ABDALLAH, 

voice  of  the  wisest  of  kings.  Or  it  was  of  the 
sleeping  companions  in  the  cavern,  who  awaited 
the  reign  of  truth  three  hundred  and  nine  years, 
with  their  faithful  dog,  El  Rakim,  crouched  at 
their  feet.  Or  it  was  of  the  sacred  camel  brought 
forth  from  the  rock  at  the  prayer  of  Saleh,  to 
confound  the  unbelief  of  the  Talmudites.  When 
did  God  tire  of  working  miracles  to  succor  the 
faithful? 

Of  all  these  marvellous  stories,  to  which  the 
Bedouins  never  tired  of  listening,  the  one  which 
Halima  oftenest  asked  of  her  son  was  that  of  Job, 
that  faithful  servant  who  turned  to  God  in  the 
midst  of  his  anguish.  In  vain  his  wife,  weary  of 
seeing  him  suffer,  consented  to  worship  Eblis  to 
regain  their  lost  happiness.  Job  refused  assist- 
ance from  this  accursed  hand.  If  he  raised  his 
body,  eaten  by  worms,  on  the  dunghill,  it  was 
to  lift  to  the  Lord  that  touching  prayer  which 
won  pardon  from  God  for  the  wretched  sufferer, 
"  Verily  evil  hath  afflicted  me,  but  thou  art  the 
most  merciful  of  those  who  show  mercy,"  —  beau- 
tiful words  which  one  of  the  faithful  alone  could 
utter. 

Hafiz  was  one  of  the  faithful,  but  he  was  also  a 
Bedouin,  proud  of  his  race ;  a  soldier  who  loved 
the  fray  of  battle.  "Think,  my  son,"  he  would 
often  say  to  Abdallah,  "  think  of  the  privileges 
which  the  Prophet  has  won  for  us,  and  which 
we  must  defend  to  the  death.  To  render  our 


EDUCATION.  37 

life  easy  God  has  given  us  gardens,  living  springs 
of  water,  innumerable  cattle,  the  dourah,1  and  the 
palm-tree  ;  to  render  it  glorious,  he  has  given  us 
a  noble  pedigree,  a  country  that  has  never  been 
conquered,  and  a  liberty  that  no  master  has  ever 
polluted.  We  are  the  kings  of  the  desert.  Our 
turbans  are  our  diadems,  our  tents  are  our  palaces, 
our  sabres  are  our  ramparts,  and  God's  own  word 
is  our  law.  Your  father  fell  like  a  martyr  on  the 
field  of  battle.  Among  your  ancestors,  for  one 
who  by  chance  has  breathed  his  last  under  a  tent, 
three  have  fallen  in  the  desert,  their  lance  in  their 
hand.  They  point  you  the  way ;  they  understood 
the  divine  saying, '  Let  them  therefore  fight  for  the 
religion  of  God  who  part  with  the  present  life  for 
that  which  is  to  come  ;  for  whosoever  fighteth  for 
the  religion  of  God,  whether  he  be  slain  or  be  vic- 
torious, we  will  surely  give  him  a  great  reward. 
The  provision  of  this  life  is  but  small ;  but  the  fu- 
ture shall  be  better  for  him  who  feareth  God.'  " 

Have  you  seen  the  war-horse  pawing  the  earth 
and  snuffing  the  wind  at  the  sound  of  the  trum- 
pet? Such  was  Abdallah  when  Hafiz  talked  to 
him  of  battle ;  his  heart  throbbed,  his  eyes  grew 
dim,  and  his  face  flushed.  "  O  God  !  "  he  cried, 
"  grant  that  it  may  soon  be  my  time ;  permit  me 
to  crush  the  infidel,  and  make  me  worthy  of  the 
people  from  which  I  have  sprung ! " 

1  The  sorgho,  the  principal  cereal  of  the  East  Indians 
and  the  Arabs,  which  they  use  like  maize  and  rice. 


38  ABDALLAH. 

The  child  of  the  desert  was  beautiful  indeed  in 
his  long  blue  robe,  confined  at  the  waist  by  a 
leather  thong  passed  half  a  score  of  times  round 
his  body.  His  thick  brown  hair  shaded  his  face 
and  fell  in  curls  upon  his  neck  from  under  his 
hood.  His  eyes  sparkled  with  a  softer  light  than 
the  planets  that  twinkle  in  the  heavens,  as,  hold- 
ing in  his  hand  a  shining  lance  wound  round  with 
silver  thread,  he  walked  slowly  with  the  grace  of 
a  child  and  the  dignity  of  a  man,  speaking  only 
when  necessary  and  never  laughing.  When  he 
returned  from  the  pasture,  carrying  the  young 
lambs  in  the  skirt  of  his  robe  while  the  sheep 
followed  him  bleating  and  rubbing  their  heads 
against  his  hand,  the  shepherds,  his  companions, 
stopped  to  see  him  pass,  and  he  seemed  like 
Joseph  adored  by  the  eleven  stars.  And  at  even- 
ing, when  he  raised  the  stone  from  the  common 
well,  with  a  strength  above  his  age,  and  watered 
the  flocks,  the  women  forgot  to  fill  their  pitchers, 
and  cried,  "  He  is  as  handsome  as  his  father ! " 
to  which  the  men  responded,  "  And  he  will  also 
be  as  brave." 


IV. 


THE  RECOGNITION. 

jjIME  had  rolled  onward  since  the  day 
that  Halima  had  carried  the  son  of  the 
wealthy  Mansour  to  her  tent.  Omar 
was  fifteen  years  old,  and  was  still  un- 
acquainted with  the  secret  of  his  birth.  The  rude 
jests  of  his  companions  had  more  than  once  made 
him  feel  that  he  was  not  a  Beni  Amur,  and  that 
the  blood  in  his  veins  was  not  so  pure  as  that  of 
Abdallah ;  but  although  he  was  called  Omar,  the 
little  merchant,  no  one  in  the  tribe  knew  who  was 
the  Egyptian's  father,  and  he  himself  believed 
that  he  was  an  orphan,  adopted  by  Halima's  good- 
ness, and  destined  to  live  in  the  desert. 

One  evening,  as  the  brothers  were  returning 
from  the  fields,  they  were  surprised  to  see  several 
richly  caparisoned  camels  at  the  door  of  the  tent, 
together  with  a  mule  covered  with  a  rich  carpet 
and  held  by  a  negro  dressed  in  white. 


40  ABDALLAH. 

"Whose  mule  is  this,"  said  Omar,  "and  what 
has  it  brought?" 

"  It  is  your  father's,"  answered  the  slave,  who 
easily  recognized  Mansour's  son  by  his  features ; 
"we  have  come  for  you  from  Djiddah." 

"Who  is  my  father?"  asked  the  Egyptian, 
greatly  moved. 

"Your  father,"  returned  the  negro,  " is  the  rich 
Mansour,  the  syndic  of  the  Djiddah  merchants, 
and  the  sultan  of  the  sons  of  Egypt.  There  is  not 
a  bale  of  .goods,  great  or  small,  that  comes  into 
the  harbor  or  goes  out  of  the  three  city  gates  that 
is  not  first  offered  to  him  for  his  disposal.  At 
Yambo,  Suez,  Khartoom,  and  Cairo,  your  father's 
warehouses  are  kept  by  his  numerous  slaves ;  and 
so  great  is  his  fortune  that  his  servants  never  con- 
sult him  about  any  business  involving  less  than  a 
hundred  thousand  piastres." 

'•'Oh,  my  father,  where  are  you?"  cried  the 
young  man,  rushing  into  the  tent.  "  Praised  be 
God,  who  has  given  me  a  father  so  worthy  of  my 
love  ! "  And  he  threw  himself  into  Mansour's 
arms  with  an  ardor  that  delighted  the  old  mer- 
chant and  called  forth  a  sigh  from  Halima. 

Early  the  next  morning  they  set  out  for  Djid- 
dah, to  the  great  sorrow  of  the  Bedouin  woman, 
who  could  not  bear  to  separate  from  the  child 
whom  she  alone  had  cherished  for  so  many  years. 
"  Adieu,  my  son,  and  dearer  than  my  son,"  said 
she,  covering  him  with  tears  and  caresses.  Omar 


THE  RECOGNITION.  41 

was  more  courageous  ;  he  quitted  his  mother  with 
the  joy  of  a  captive  who  at  once  regains  freedom 
and  fortune.  Abdallah  accompanied  his  brother 
to  the  city  by  the  wish  of  Mansour.  To  show  the 
Bedouin  how  far  the  consideration  attached  to 
wealth  in  a  city  like  Djiddah  raised  a  merchant 
above  the  shepherds  of  the  desert,  and  to  make 
him  feel  that  his  mother  and  he  should  esteem 
themselves  too  happy  in  having  loved  and  served 
Omar  for  fifteen  years,  was  Mansour's  fashion  of 
paying  his  debt  of  gratitude.  The  rich  leave  their 
folly  and  vanity  only  beyond  the  tomb. 

No  sooner  had  they  reached  Djiddah  than 
Omar  broke  forth  into  transports  of  joy.  He  was 
an  exile  returning  to  his  native  land.  Everything 
charmed  him,  —  the  narrow  streets,  with  their  great 
stone  houses ;  the  port,  where  the  ships  were  un- 
loading casks  of  sugar,  sacks  of  coffee,  and  bales 
of  cotton  ;  and  the  motley  crowd  that  was  throng- 
ing toward  the  bazaar.  Turks,  Syrians,  Greeks, 
Arabs,  Persians,  East  Indians,  blacks  of  every 
shade ;  Jews,  pilgrims,  dervishes,  beggars ;  Nile 
merchants  mounted  on  beautifully  caparisoned 
mules ;  donkey-drivers  leading  women  enveloped 
in  black  mantles,  and  looking  like  phantoms  of 
which  naught  was  visible  but  the  eyes ;  camel- 
drivers  shouting  to  the  crowd  to  open  a  passage ; 
Arnauts  with  an  audacious  and  threatening  air, 
proud  of  their  Damascus  weapons  and  flowing 
fustanella ;  peaceful  smokers  seated  with  crossed 


42  ABD ALLAH. 

legs  at  the  doors  of  the  coffee-houses ;  slaves  led 
to  market,  —  all  this  was  to  Omar  a  paradise 
more  enchanting  than  any  of  which  he  had  ever 
dreamed.  In  such  an  abode,  what  could  not  be 
bought  and  what  could  not  be  sold?  Had  he 
not  learned  the  price  of  all  manner  of  things 
from  his  father  on  the  road  ?  Did  he  not  already 
know  how  to  rate  the  integrity  of  a  cadi,  the 
scruples  of  a  sheik,  and  even  the  conscience  of  a 
pacha  ? 

At  the  end  of  a  narrow  and  gloomy  alley  stood 
the  house  of  Man  sour.  There  was  nothing  about 
the  building  calculated  to  attract  attention ;  the 
ground  floor  was  bare  and  uninviting,  and  fur- 
nished only  with  a  few  rush  mats  along  the  white- 
washed walls ;  but  on  ascending  to  the  next  story, 
which  was  carefully  closed,  and  furnished  with 
blinds  that  defied  both  the  sun  and  curiosity, 
magnificent  rooms  met  the  eye,  covered  with  Tur- 
key carpets,  and  surrounded  with  velvet  divans 
embroidered  with  silver.  The  travellers  were 
scarcely  seated  when  a  chased  silver  salver  was 
brought  them,  loaded  with  jellied  fruits.  While 
one  slave  poured  rose-water  on  Abdallah's  bronzed 
hands,  and  presented  him  a  napkin  fringed  with 
gold,  another  burned  incense  before  old  Mansour, 
who  stroked  his  beard  and  clothes  to  impregnate 
them  with  the  fragrant  smoke;  coffee  was  then 
served  in  tiny  porcelain  cups,  set  in  stands  of  gold 
filigree-work,  after  which  exquisite  sherbets,  pre- 


THE  RECOGNITION.  43 

pared  from  the  extract  of  violets  and  the  juice  of 
pomegranates  expressed  through  the  rind,  were 
offered  them.  Lastly,  three  little  negroes,  dressed 
in  scarlet  and  covered  with  bracelets  and  neck- 
laces, lighted  long  jasmine  pipes  and  presented 
one  to  each  guest,  then  all  three  seated  themselves 
on  the  ground,  attentive  and  silent. 

They  smoked  long  without  speaking.  Mansour 
was  enjoying  the  delight  which  he  saw  in  his  son 
and  the  admiration  which  he  supposed  in  the  Arab. 
But  the  Bedouin's  face  did  not  change ;  amid  all 
this  luxury  he  was  as  grave  and  tranquil  as  if  in 
the  midst  of  his  flocks.  What  are  the  luxuries  of 
this  world  to  him  who  expects  the  lasting  rewards 
which  God  has  in  store  for  the  faithful? 

"  Well,  my  son,"  said  old  Mansour  at  last,  turn- 
ing toward  Abdallah,  "  are  you  content  with  your 
journey?" 

"  Father,"  replied  the  young  man,  "  I  thank 
you  for  your  hospitality.  Your  heart  is  even 
richer  than  your  treasure." 

"Well,  well,"  returned  the  merchant;  "but 
what  I  want  to  know  is  what  you  think  of  Djid- 
dah?  Would  you  like  to  stay  with  us?  " 

"  No.  The  city  is  tainted ;  the  air  is  pestilen- 
tial, the  water  impure.  Then  those  idle  dervishes, 
displaying  to  all  eyes  their  impudence  and  their 
covetousness,  and  those  slaves  who  stand  there  to 
deprive  us  of  the  use  of  our  hands,  and  who  spy 
out  our  passions  to  serve  them  !  Huzza  for  the 


44  ABDALLAH. 

desert !  Our  terrible  winds  are  sweeter  to  me 
than  the  hot,  heavy  air  of  this  prison.  Among 
the  tents  there  are  none  but  men.  Each  one 
rights  himself,  lance  in  hand.  The  dog  that  begs 
through  cowardice  is  thrust  out;  the  haughty, 
who  know  not  how  to  respect  those  better  than 
themselves,  are  humbled." 

"Your  words  are  golden,  my  son,"  said  Man- 
sour,  running  his  fingers  through  his  long  beard  ; 
"  a  Wahabite  could  not  be  more  austere.  I  thought 
like  you  when  I  was  a  child  and  recited  my  nurse's 
lessons.  Stay  with  us  for  a  time ;  become  a  mer- 
chant ;  when  you  see  how  fortune  invests  the  vil- 
est of  men  with  authority,  youth,  and  virtue,  how 
the  powerful  of  the  day,  the  women,  and  even  the 
saints  fall  down  and  worship  the  metal  which  you 
despise,  you  will  change  your  mind,  and  prefer 
even  the  unsavory  odor  of  cities.  It  is  beautiful 
to  live  like  the  lark,  free  in  space ;  but  sooner  or 
later  all  are  snared  like  it.  The  douro  is  the  king 
of  the  world,  and  the  day  comes  when  the  bravest, 
like  the  wisest,  is  the  servant  of  the  richest." 

"I  know,"  returned  Abdallah,  proudly,  "that 
nothing  satisfies  the  sons  of  Adam.  The  dust  of 
the  grave  alone  has  power  to  fill  their  bellies ;  but 
in  the  desert,  at  least,  an  ounce  of  honor  is  worth 
more  than  a  hundred  weight  of  gold.  With  God's 
aid,  I  will  live  like  my  ancestors.  He  who  desires 
naught  will  always  be  free.  Farewell,  therefore, 
Mansour ;  farewell,  my  brother.  To-day  our  roads 


THE  RECOGNITION.  45 

part ;  may  that  which  you  lake  lead  you  to  the 
end  which  all  the  faithful  should  desire  !  " 

"  Farewell,  my  good  Abdallah,"  answered  Omar. 
"  Each  of  us  follows  his  destiny.  What  is  written 
is  written,  You  were  born  to  dwell  among  the 
tents,  and  I  to  be  a  merchant.  Farewell ;  I  shall 
never  forget  the  friendship  of  my  childhood ;  if 
ever  I  am  in  need  of  a  stout  arm,  be  sure  that  I 
shall  have  recourse  to  you." 

"  Thanks,  my  brother,"  cried  the  Bedouin ; 
and  taking  Omar  in  his  arms,  he  pressed  him 
tenderly  to  his  heart,  without  restraining  or 
hiding  his  tears. 

Omar  tranquilly  received  these  proofs  of  friend- 
ship, and  when  Abdallah,  with  drooping  head  and 
dejected  mien,  h:.d  quitted  the  house  after  more 
than  once  looking  back,  "Say,"  said  he  to  his 
father,  "  what  can  you  have  been  thinking  of,  to 
leave  me  so  long  with  that  Bedouin  ?  Suppose  you 
had  died,  and  I  had  appeared  to  claim  your  in- 
heritance, the  old  men  of  the  city  would  have 
said,  '  We  have  known  Mansour  a1!  our  lives,  and 
have  never  heard  of  his  having  either  son  or 
daughter,'  and  then  who  would  have  been  your 
heir  if  not  the  pacha  ?  Carry  me  quickly  to  the 
bazaar,  introduce  me  to  all  your  friends,  the  mer- 
chants, and,  above  all,  make  me  your  partner,  and 
give  me  a  warehouse  of  my  own.  I  feel  an  un- 
controllable desire  to  handle  gold.  I  have  already 
learned  to  calculate  among  the  tents,  and  know 


46  ABD ALLAH. 

how  to  treat  men  in  order  to  gain  much  and  risk 
little.  You  shall  not  blush  for  your  son." 

"  My  child,"  cried  Mansour,  raising  his  trem- 
bling hands  to  heaven,  "  wisdom  speaks  through 
your  mouth ;  but  the  day  is  too  far  advanced  to 
go  out,  and,  besides,  your  dress  is  not  suitable. 
To-morrow  we  will  go  to  the  bazaar;  to-morrow 
all  Djiddah  shall  know  my  glory  and  happiness." 

All  night  Omar  dreamed  of  gold  and  silver ;  all 
night  Mansour  tossed  on  his  bed,  unable  to  close 
his  eyes;  he  saw  himself  born  anew  in  a  son 
shrewder,  more  cunning,  more  covetous,  and  more 
avaricious  than  himself.  "  Ah  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
in  his  joy,  "  I  am  the  happiest  of  fathers.  The 
dervish  did  not  deceive  me;  if  my  son  escape 
the  perils  that  threaten  him,  who  knows  where  the 
wealth  of  my  house  will  stop?  " 

Madman,  thou  forgettest  that  if  gold  is  a  bless- 
ing to  him  that  gives  it,  it  is  a  poison  to  him  that 
hoards  it.  He  who  harbors  avarice  in  his  heart, 
harbors  there  the  enemy  of  mankind  ;  and  woe  to 
him  who  chooses  Satan  for  a  companion  ! 


V. 

THE   NEW   SOLOMON. 

j|HE  next  morning  at  daybreak,  Mansour 
led  his  son  to  the  bath,  and  dressed 
him  in  a  style  befitting  his  new  con- 
dition. A  silken  robe,  striped  with 
bright  colors,  and  confined  round  the  waist  by  a 
Cashmere  girdle,  a  flowing  caftan  of  the  finest  and 
softest  cloth,  and  a  white  embroidered  cap,  round 
which  was  twisted  a  muslin  turban,  —  such  was 
the  elegant  costume  brought  by  the  most  fashion- 
able tailor  of  Djiddah.  In  this  dress  the  features 
of  the  Egyptian  seemed  harsher  and  his  complex- 
ion more  swarthy  than  ever.  The  tailor,  however, 
thought  otherwise ;  he  did  nothing  but  praise  the 
beauty  and  grace  of  Omar,  and  pity  the  ladies 
of  the  city  who  should  look  with  indifference  on 
his  countenance,  more  beautiful  than  the  moon  at 
its  full.  When  nothing  more  remained  of  the 
Bedouin  of  the  day  before,  breakfast  was  served 
and  sherbet  brought  in ;  then,  after  sundry  coun- 
sels from  old  Mansour,  Omar,  mounted  on  a  mule, 


48  ABDALLAH. 

and  modestly  falling  behind  his  father,  took  the 
way  with  him  to  the  bazaar. 

The  Egyptian  led  his  son  to  a  shop  which  was 
narrow,  like  all  in  the  market,  but  crowded  with 
precious  articles.  Shawls  from  India,  satins  and 
brocades  from  China,  carpets  from  Bassora,  yata- 
ghans in  their  chased  silver  scabbards,  pipes 
mounted  with  amber  and  adorned  with  rubies, 
rosaries  of  black  coral,  necklaces  of  sequins  and 
pearls,  —  all  that  could  seduce  women,  all  that 
could  ruin  men,  was  found  in  this  warehouse  of 
perdition.  A  stone  bench  ran  before  the  shop. 
Mansour  seated  himself  on  the  cushions  and 
lighted  his  pipe ;  Omar  took  his  beads  and  began 
to  recite  his  prayers,  without  looking  at  the  crowd. 

As  soon  as  the  merchants  perceived  the  syndic, 
they  rose  in  a  body,  and  went  to  repeat  the  Fat- 
hah,  and  to  wish  him  good-morning.  Every  one 
looked  with  surprise  at  the  new-comer,  and  asked 
his  neighbor  in  a  whisper  who  the  stranger  could 
be,  —  whether  a  relative  of  the  Egyptian,  or  a 
young  slave  richly  dressed  in  order  to  draw  cus- 
tomers. Mansour  called  to  the  sheik,  and  point- 
ing to  Omar,  "This  is  my  son,"  said  he,  —  "my 
partner  and  successor." 

"  Your  son  !  "  exclaimed  the  sheik.  "  Who  ever 
heard  that  the  rich  Mansour  had  an  heir?  " 

"  I  wished  to  deceive  the  evil  eye,"  replied  the 
old  man  ;  "  this  is  why  I  have  had  my  son  brought 
up  at  a  distance  and  in  secret.  I  did  not  intend 


THE  NEW  SOLOMON.  49 

to  present  him  to  you  till  his  beard  was  grown ; 
but  I  was  getting  old,  I  became  impatient ;  and 
to-day,  with  your  permission,  I  shall  place  him 
in  the  bazaar  to  learn  of  you  the  art  of  buying 
and  selling." 

"  Mansour  is  always  wise,"  replied  the  mer- 
chants, as  they  vied  with  each  other  in  congratu- 
lating the  happy  father  of  such  a  son.  "  May  the 
Lord,"  they  exclaimed,  "  preserve  both  root  and 
branch  ! " 

In  the  midst  of  these  wishes,  which  tickled  the 
Egyptian's  pride,  the  sheik  took  up  the  conversa- 
tion. "Among  us,"  said  he  to  Mansour,  "when 
a  son  or  daughter  is  born,  even  the  poor  man  in- 
vites his  friends  to  rejoice  with  him ;  have  you 
forgotten  us?" 

"  Honor  me  with  a  visit  this  evening,"  replied 
the  old  man ;  "you  shall  be  welcome." 

An  hour  after,  a  messenger,  carrying  a  huge 
bouquet,  went  through  the  market  offering  a 
flower  to  each  merchant,  with  the  words,  "Re- 
cite the  Fat-hah  for  the  Prophet."  The  prayer 
ended,  "  Mansour  entreats  you,"  added  the  mes- 
senger, "  to  take  coffee  with  him  this  evening  at 
his  house." 

"  Mansour  is  the  prince  of  the  generous,"  re- 
turned the  invited  guests ;  "  with  the  blessing  of 
God,  we  will  pay  our  respects  this  evening  to  the 
syndic." 

At  the  appointed  time,  the  Egyptian  and  his 
4 


50  ABDALLAH. 

son  received  the  merchants  in  the  little  garden, 
where  a  splendid  feast  awaited  the  guests.  Lambs 
stuffed  with  almonds,  and  pistachio  nuts,  rice  with 
saffron,  cream  sauces  flavored  with  pepper,  rose 
jellies,  pastry  of  all  kinds,  —  nothing  was  spared  to 
honor  guests  of  such  consequence.  For  the  first 
time  Mansour  desired  that  the  poor  should  par- 
take of  his  joy,  and  ordered  the  remains  of  the 
feast,  with  some  small  silver  coin,  to  be  distrib- 
uted among  them  before  the  door,  which  was 
enough  to  fill  the  street  with  huzzas  and  blessings, 
and  to  cause  the  name  of  the  generous  Omar  and 
the  rich  Mansour  to  resound  from  one  end  of 
Djiddah  to  the  other. 

Coffee  served  and  the  pipes  lighted,  the  sheik 
took  Omar  by  the  hand ;  "  Behold  our  friend's 
son,"  said  he  to  the  merchants,  "  who  desires  to 
enter  our  honorable  company.  I  beseech  each 
one  to  recite  the  Fat-hah  for  the  Prophet." 

While  the  prayer  was  being  three  times  re- 
peated, the  sheik  wound  a  shawl  round  Omar's 
waist,  tying  a  knot  after  each  Fat-hah.  The  cere- 
mony finished,  the  young  man  kissed  the  hand 
of  the  sheik  and  the  other  spectators,  beginning 
with  the  eldest.  His  eyes  sparkled  with  joy.  He 
was  a  Djiddah  merchant ;  he  was  rich ;  the  world 
was  opening  before  him. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  was  passed  in  conver- 
sation, all  bearing  upon  trade.  Omar  did  not 
open  his  lips;  he  stood  near  the  elders  of  the 


THE  NEW  SOLOMON.  51 

party,  who  did  not  weary  of  talking  to  a  young 
man  who  listened  with  such  attention  and  respect. 
They  told  him  how  a  good  salesman  should  always 
ask  four  times  the  value  of  the  article  haggled 
for,  and  should  never  lose  his  coolness,  which  is 
the  secret  of  the  trade.  Trading  is  like  trout- 
fishing  ;  it  is  necessary  to  draw  on  the  customer 
and  give  him  line  till,  wearied  and  dazzled,  he  at 
length  knows  no  longer  how  to  defend  himself. 
To  toy  with  a  rosary,  offer  coffee  or  a  pipe,  talk 
of  indifferent  things,  preserve  an  unmoved  coun- 
tenance, and  yet  kindle  desire  in  the  soul  of  the 
purchaser,  is  a  difficult  act,  not  to  be  learned  in 
a  day.  "  But,"  they  added,  caressing  Omar, 
"you  are  in  a  good  school,  my  son;  neither 
Jew  nor  even  Armenian  can  overreach  the  wise 
Mansour." 

"Is  commerce  nothing  more  than  this?"  said 
the  young  man  in  his  heart ;  "  in  that  case  I  have 
no  need  of  these  people.  To  think  only  and 
always  of  one's  self,  and  to  make  use  of  the  pas- 
sions or  weaknesses  of  others  to  strip  fools  of  the 
wealth  they  dote  on,  —  I  have  known  this  from 
my  birth ;  I  did  nothing  else  in  the  desert ;  my 
masters  will  be  shrewd  indeed  if,  before  six 
months  are  past,  I  do  not  give  them  a  lesson." 

A  few  days  after,  Mansour  repaired  to  the  cadi 
on  account  of  a  suit,  the  issue  of  which  troubled 
him  but  little.  A  private  conversation  with  the 
judge  had  given  him  hopes  of  the  justice  of  his 


5  2  ABD  ALLAH. 

cause.  The  old  man  asked  his  son  to  accom- 
pany him,  in  order  to  accustom  him  early  to  deal 
with  the  law.  The  cadi  was  seated  in  the  court- 
yard of  the  mosque.  He  was  a  fat,  good-looking 
man,  who  never  thought,  and  talked  little,  which, 
added  to  his  large  turban  and  his  air  of  perpetual 
astonishment,  gave  him  a  great  reputation  for 
justice  and  gravity.  The  spectators  were  nu- 
merous ;  the  principal  merchants  were  seated 
on  the  ground  on  carpets,  forming  a  semicircle 
around  the  magistrate.  Mansour  took  his  seat 
a  little  way  from  the  sheik,  and  Omar  placed 
himself  between  the  two,  his  curiosity  strongly 
excited  to  see  how  the  law  was  obeyed,  and  how 
it  was  trifled  with  in  case  of  need. 

The  first  case  called  was  that  of  a  young  Ban- 
ian, as  yellow  as  an  orange,  with  loose-flowing 
robes  and  an  effeminate  air,  who  had  lately  landed 
from  India,  and  who  complained  of  having  been 
cheated  by  one  of  Mansour's  rivals. 

"  Having  found  a  casket  full  of  diamonds 
among  the  effects  bequeathed  to  me  by  my  father 
at  Delhi,"  said  the  young  man,  "  I  set  out  for 
Egypt  in  order  to  live  there  in  opulence  on  the 
proceeds  of  their  sale.  I  was  obliged  by  bad 
weather  to  put  in  at  Djiddah,  where  I  was  re- 
tained by  the  pleasures  of  the  city,  and  soon  found 
myself  in  want  of  money.  I  was  assured  that,  if 
I  wished  to  dispose  of  my  diamonds,  I  should 
find  a  good  market  here.  I  went  to  the  bazaar, 


THE  NEW  SOLOMON.  53 

and  inquired  for  a  dealer  in  precious  stones.  The 
richest,  1  was  told,  was  Mansour ;  the  most  honest 
was  Ali  the  jeweller.  I  applied  to  the  latter.  As 
soon  as  he  learned  the  object  of  my  visit,  he  wel- 
comed me  like  a  son,  and,  refusing  to  talk  of 
business  at  the  bazaar,  carried  me  home  with  him. 
For  several  days  he  treated  me  in  the  most  gen- 
erous manner,  gained  my  confidence  by  every 
kind  of  attention,  and  advanced  me  all  the  money 
I  needed.  One  day,  after  dinner,  when  I  was 
not  quite  sober,  he  asked  me  for  the  casket,  ex- 
amined the  diamonds  one  by  one,  and  said,  with 
feigned  pity,  '  My  child,  these  stones  are  of  -little 
value  in  Arabia  and  Egypt.  The  rocks  of  our 
desert  furnish  them  by  thousands ;  my  coffers  are 
full  of  them."  To  prove  the  truth  of  what  he 
said,  he  opened  a  box,  and  taking  therefrom  a 
diamond  thrice  as  large  as  any  of  mine,  gave  it 
to  the  slave  that  was  with  me. 

" '  What  will  become  of  me  ?  '  I  cried.  '  I  have 
no  other  fortune  ;  I  thought  myself  rich,  and  here 
I  am  poor,  a  stranger,  and  far  from  my  family 
and  country.' 

" '  My  child,'  replied  the  treacherous  jeweller, 
'  I  conceived  a  friendship  for  you  at  first  sight. 
A  Mussulman  never  forsakes  his  friends  in  trouble. 
Leave  this  casket  with  me,  and,  to  oblige  you,  I 
will  give  you  a  price  for  it  such  as  no  one  else 
would  offer.  Choose  whatever  you  wish  in  Djid- 
dah,  —  gold,  silver,  or  coral,  —  and  in  two  hours  I 


54  ABDALLAH. 

promise  to  give  you  an  equal  weight  of  what  you 
have  chosen  in  exchange  for  your  Indian  stones.' 

"  On  returning  home,  night  brought  reflection. 
I  made  inquiries,  and  soon  learned  that  Ali  had 
been  fooling  me.  What  he  had  given  to  the 
slave  was  nothing  but  a  bit  of  crystal.  Diamonds 
are  scarcer  at  Djiddah  than  in  India,  and  are 
worth  ten  times  their  weight  in  gold.  I  demanded 
my  casket.  Ali  refused  to  restore  it.  Venerable 
magistrate,  my  sole  hope  is  in  your  justice.  I 
entreat  you  to  espouse  the  cause  of  a  stranger; 
and  may  the  wretch  who  has  ruined  me  drink 
boiling  water  for  all  eternity !  " 

It  was  Ali's  turn  to  speak.  "  Illustrious  servant 
of  God,"  said  he  to  the  cadi,  "  this  young  man's 
story  is  true  in  but  one  particular,  namely,  that  we 
have  made  a  bargain,  and  that  I  am  ready  to  keep 
it.  All  the  rest  is  of  his  own  invention.  What 
matters  it  what  I  gave  the  slave  ?  could  a  sensible 
man  have  seen  in  it  anything  else  than  a  jest? 
Did  I  force  the  stranger  to  leave  his  casket  in  my 
hands  ?  Was  it  my  fault  if  want  of  money  made 
him  accept  my  conditions?  Why  does  he  accuse 
me  of  treachery?  Have  I  broken  my  word,  and 
has  he  kept  his?  " 

"Young  man,"  said  the  cadi  to  the  Banian, 
"  have  you  witnesses  to  prove  that  Ali  deceived 
you  as  to  the  value  of  your  merchandise  ?  If  not, 
I  shall  put  the  accused  on  his  oath,  as  the  law 
decrees." 


THE  NEW  SOLOMON.  55 

A  Koran  was  brought.  AH  placed  his  right 
hand  on  the  sacred  book,  and  repeated  three 
times,  "  In  the  name  of  God  the  Omnipotent,  and 
by  the  word  of  God  that  is  contained  in  this  book, 
I  swear  that  I  have  not  deceived  this  stranger.  I 
swear  it  here  to-day,"  he  added,  turning  toward 
the  assembly,  "  as  I  shall  swear  it  on  the  judg- 
ment-day before  God  as  cadi,  with  the  angels  for 
witnesses." 

"Wretch,"  said  the  Banian,  "thou  art  among 
those  whose  feet  go  down  to  destruction.  Thou 
hast  thrown  away  thy  soul." 

"  That  may  be,"  whispered  the  sheik  to  Omar, 
"  but  he  has  gained  a  huge  fortune.  This  All  is  a 
shrewd  knave." 

"  He  is  no  ordinary  man,"  added  Mansour. 
"  This  may  be  called  a  game  well  played." 

Omar  smiled,  and  while  AH  was  enjoying  the 
success  of  his  ruse,  he  approached  the  stranger, 
who  burst  into  tears. 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  help  you  to  gain  the 
suit?  "  asked  he. 

"  Yes,"  cried  the  East  Indian  ;  "  confound  this 
wretch,  and  you  may  ask  of  me  what  you  will. 
But  you  are  only  a  child ;  you  can  do  nothing." 

"  I  only  ask  you  to  have  confidence  in  me  for  a 
few  moments,"  returned  the  Egyptian.  "Accept 
Ali's  bargain ;  let  me  choose  in  your  stead,  and 
fear  nothing." 

"  What  can  I  fear  after  having  lost  all?  "  mur- 


56  ABD  ALLAH. 

mured  the  stranger,  letting  his  head  fall  again  on 
his  bosom  like  a  man  bereft  of  all  hope.  Never- 
theless, he  turned  to  the  cadi,  and,  bowing  re- 
spectfully, "  Oh,  my  lord  and  master,"  said  he, 
"  thy  slave  implores  a  last  favor  of  thy  mercy ;  let 
the  bargain  be  consummated,  since  the  law  de- 
crees it,  but  permit  this  young  man  to  choose  in 
my  stead  what  I  shall  receive  in  payment." 

A  profound  silence  ensued.  Omar  rose,  and, 
bowing  to  the  cadi,  "  AH,"  said  he  to  the  jeweller, 
"  you  have  doubtless  brought  the  casket,  and  can 
tell  us  the  weight  thereof  ?  " 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  the  merchant ;  "  it  weighs 
twenty  pounds.  Choose  what  you  will,  I  repeat ; 
if  the  thing  asked  for  is  to  be  found  in  Djiddah, 
you  shall  have  it  within  two  hours,  otherwise  the 
bargain  is  null  and  void.  All  know  that  my  word 
is  sacred,  and  that  I  never  break  it." 

"  What  we  desire,"  said  Omar,  raising  his  voice, 
"  is  ants'  wings,  half  male  and  half  female.  You 
have  two  hours  in  which  to  furnish  the  twenty 
pounds  you  have  promised  us." 

"  This  is  absurd,"  cried  the  jeweller ;  "  it  is  im- 
possible. I  should  need  half  a  score  of  persons 
and  six  months'  labor  to  satisfy  this  foolish  de- 
mand. It  is  trifling  with  justice  to  introduce 
these  childish  caprices  into  this  place." 

"Are  there  any  winged  ants  in  Djiddah?" 
asked  the  cadi. 

"  Of  course,"  answered  the  merchants,  laugh- 


THE  NEW  SOLOMON.  57 

ing ;  "  they  are  one  of  the  plagues  of  Egypt.  Our 
houses  are  full  of  them,  and  it  would  be  doing  us 
a  great  service  to  rid  us  of  them." 

"  Then  Ali  must  keep  his  promise  or  give  back 
the  casket,"  said  the  cadi.  "  This  young  man 
was  mad  to  sell  his  diamonds  weight  for  weight ; 
he  is  mad  to  exact  such  a  payment.  So  much  the 
better  for  Ali  the  first  time ;  so  much  the  worse 
for  him  the  second.  Justice  has  not  two  weights 
and  measures.  Every  bargain  holds  good  before 
the  law.  Either  furnish  twenty  pounds  of  ants' 
wings,  or  restore  the  casket  to  the  Banian." 

"  A  righteous  judgment !  "  shouted  the  specta- 
tors, wonder-struck  at  such  equity. 

The  stranger,  beside  himself  with  joy,  embraced 
Omar,  calling  him  his  savior  and  master ;  nor  did 
he  stop  there  :  taking  from  the  casket  three  dia- 
monds of  the  finest  water,  as  large  as  nightingales' 
eggs,  he  forced  them  on  Omar,  who  put  them  in 
his  girdle,  respectfully  kissed  the  Banian's  right 
hand,  and  seated  himself  by  his  father,  his  gravity 
unmoved  by  the  gaze  of  the  assembly. 

"Well  done,  my  friend,"  said  Mansour;  "but 
Ali  is  a  novice ;  had  he  not  neglected  the  cadi  he 
would  have  gained  his  suit.  It  is  my  turn  now ; 
mark  me  well,  and  profit  by  the  lesson  I  shall 
give  you.  Stop,  young  man  ! "  he  cried  to  the 
East  Indian,  who  was  carrying  off  the  diamonds, 
"  we  have  an  account  to  settle.  I  entreat  the 
illustrious  cadi  to  keep  this  casket  for  a  moment ; 


58  ABD ALLAH. 

there  may  be  those  here  who  have  a  better  right 
to  it  than  either  this  stranger  or  the  prudent  Ali." 

There  was  universal  surprise  among  the  spec- 
tators, and  all  listened  to  the  new  claimant. 

"  The  day  before  yesterday."  said  Mansour,  "a 
veiled  lady  entered  my  shop  in  the  bazaar  and 
asked  to  look  at  some  necklaces.  Nothing  that 
I  showed  her  pleased  her  taste,  and  she  was 
about  to  leave  the  shop,  when  she  spied  a  sealed 
box  in  a  corner,  and  entreated  me  to  open  it. 
This  box  contained  a  set  of  topazes  which  were 
no  longer  at  my  disposal,  having  been  already 
sold  to  the  Pacha  of  Egypt.  I  told  the  lady  this, 
but  she  insisted  on  at  least  seeing  the  gift  des- 
tined for  a  sultana.  A  woman's  wish  is  a  thing  not 
easily  thwarted.  There  are  three  kinds  of  ob- 
stinacy that  are  irresistible,  —  that  of  princes,  of 
children,  and  of  women.  I  was  so  weak  as  to 
yield.  The  stranger  looked  at  the  necklace, 
tried  it  on,  and  declared  that  she  would  have 
it  at  any  price.  On  my  refusal,  she  quitted  the 
bazaar,  loading  me  with  threats  and  maledictions. 
An  hour  after,  this  young  man  entered  my  shop, 
and  bursting  into  tears,  kissed  my  hand  and 
entreated  me  to  sell  him  the  necklace,  saying 
that  his  own  life  and  that  of  the  lady  depended 
on  it.  'Ask  of  me  what  you  will,  my  father,' 
said  he,  '  but  I  must  have  these  gems  or  die.' 
I  have  a  weakness  for  young  men,  and,  though  I 
knew  the  danger  of  disappointing  my  master  the 


THE  NEW  SOLOMON.  59 

pacha,  I  was  unable  to  resist  his  supplications. 
'  Take  the  topazes,'  said  I  to  the  stranger,  '  but 
promise  to  give  whatever  I  may  ask  in  exchange.' 
'  My  head  itself,  if  you  will,  for  you  have  saved 
my  life,'  he  replied,  as  he  carried  off  the  neck- 
lace. We  were  without  witnesses,"  added  Man- 
sour,  turning  to  the  Banian,  "  but  is  not  my  story 
true?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  young  man,  "  and  I  beg  your 
pardon  for  not  having  satisfied  you  sooner:  you 
know  the  cause.  Now  that  I  have  recovered  my 
fortune,  thanks  to  your  son,  ask  of  me  what  you 
desire." 

"What  I  desire,"  said  Mansour,  nodding  to 
the  pacha,  who  was  gazing  fixedly  at  a  palm- 
tree,  "  what  I  desire  is  this  casket  with  all  its 
contents.  It  is  not  too  much  for  a  man  who 
risks  his  life  by  disobeying  the  pacha.  Illustrious 
magistrate,  your  excellency  has  declared  that  all 
bargains  hold  good  before  the  law.  This  young 
man  has  promised  to  give  me  what  I  please ; 
now  I  declare  that  nothing  pleases  me  but  these 
diamonds." 

The  cadi  raised  his  head  and  looked  about 
the  assembly  as  if  to  interrogate  the  faces, 
then  stroked  his  beard  and  relapsed  into  his 
meditations. 

"  Ali  is  defeated,"  said  the  sheik  to  Omar,  with 
a  smile.  "  The  fox  is  not  yet  born  more  cunning 
than  the  worthy  Mansour." 


60  ABDALLAH. 

"  I  am  lost !  "  cried  the  Banian.  "  Oh,  Omar, 
have  you  saved  me  only  to  cast  me  down  from 
the  highest  pinnacle  of  joy  to  the  depths  of  de- 
spair? Persuade  your  father  to  spare  me,  that  I 
may  owe  my  life  to  you  a  second  time." 

"  Well,  my  son,"  said  Mansour,  "  doubtless 
you  are  shrewd,  but  this  will  teach  you  that  your 
father  knows  rather  more  than  you  do.  The  cadi 
is  about  to  decide ;  try  whether  you  can  dictate 
his  decree." 

"  It  is  mere  child's  play,"  answered  Omar, 
shrugging  his  shoulders  ;  "  but,  since  you  desire  it, 
my  father,  you  shall  lose  your  suit."  He  rose, 
and  taking  a  piastre  from  his  girdle,  put  it  into 
the  hand  of  the  Banian,  who  laid  it  before  the 
judge. 

"  Illustrious  cadi,"  said  he,  "  this  young  man 
is  ready  to  fulfil  his  engagement.  This  is 
what  he  offers  Mansour,  — a  piastre.  In  itself, 
this  coin  is  of  little  value ; l  but  examine  it 
closely,  and  you  will  see  that  it  is  stamped  with 
the  likeness  of  the  sultan,  our  glorious  master. 
May  God  destroy  and  confound  all  who  disobey 
his  highness  !  It  is  this  precious  likeness  that  we 
offer  you,"  added  Omar,  turning  to  Mansour ;  "  if 
it  pleases  you,  you  are  paid ;  to  dare  to  say  that 
it  displeases  you  is  an  insult  to  the  pacha,  a  crime 
punishable  by  death ;  and  I  am  sure  that  our 
worthy  cadi  will  not  become  your  accomplice,  — 
1  About  two  pence. 


THE  NEW  SOLOMON.  6 1 

he  who  always  has  been  and  always  will  be  the 
faithful  servant  of  all  the  sultans." 

When  Omar  had  finished  speaking,  all  eyes 
turned  toward  the  cadi,  who,  more  impenetrable 
than  ever,  stroked  his  face  and  waited  for  the  old 
man  to  come  to  his  aid.  Mansour  was  agitated 
and  embarrassed.  The  silence  of  the  cadi  and  the 
assembly  terrified  him,  and  he  cast  a  supplicating 
glance  toward  his  son. 

"My  father,"  said  Omar,  "permit  this  young 
man  to  thank  you  for  the  lesson  of  prudence 
which  you  have  given  him  by  frightening  him  a 
little.  He  knows  well  that  it  was  you  who  sent 
me  to  his  aid,  and  that  all  this  is  a  farce.  No 
one  is  deceived  by  hearing  the  son  oppose  the 
father;  and  who  has  ever  doubted  Mansour's 
experience  and  generosity  ?  " 

"  No  one,"  interrupted  the  cadi,  starting  up 
like  a  man  suddenly  awakened  from  a  dream, 
"  and  I  least  of  all ;  and  this  is  why  I  have  per- 
mitted you  to  speak,  my  young  Solomon.  I 
wished  to  honor  in  you  the  wisdom  of  your 
father ;  but  another  time  avoid  meddling  with 
his  highness's  name ;  it  is  not  safe  to  sport  with 
the  lion's  paws.  The  matter  is  settled.  The 
necklace  is  worth  a  hundred  thousand  piastres, 
is  it  not,  Mansour?  This  madcap  shall  give  you, 
therefore,  a  hundred  thousand  piastres,  and  all 
parties  will  be  satisfied." 

Despite  his  modesty,  Omar  could  not  escape 


62  ABD  ALLAH. 

the  gratitude  of  the  East  Indian  or  the  praises  of 
the  merchants.  The  former  tried  to  force  the 
casket  into  his  hands ;  and  it  was  impossible  to 
prevent  him  from  seizing  the  bridle  of  the  mule 
that  carried  Omar,  and  accompanying  to  his  door 
him  whom  he  styled  the  most  generous  and  wisest 
of  men.  The  merchants,  on  their  side,  heaped 
congratulations  on  Mansour ;  and  the  celebrated 
case  which  called  forth  the  wisdom  of  him  whom 
the  sagacious  cadi  styled  the  new  Solomon  is  still 
talked  of  at  Djiddah. 

Once  at  home,  Mansour  broke  forth  into  re- 
proaches. "  I  cannot  understand  you,  my  son," 
said  he.  "  I  had  a  fortune  in  my  hands,  and  you 
have  snatched  it  from  me.  Is  this  your  idea  of 
business?  Is  this  the  respect  that  you  show  your 
father?" 

"  Have  patience,  my  father,"  replied  Omar, 
coldly.  "To-day  I  have  made  myself  a  reputa- 
tion for  prudence  and  probity.  It  is  a  noise  that 
will  be  lasting,  a  first  impression  that  will  never  be 
effaced.  Reputation  is  a  jewel  which  nothing  can 
replace ;  it  is  ten  thousand  times  more  valuable 
capital  than  your  diamonds.  All  distrust  Mansour's 
cunning,  but  all  will  confide,  like  this  foreigner,  in 
Omar's  honesty  and  integrity.  The  bait  is  thrown, 
the  trout  will  not  be  long  in  coming." 

Mansour  stood  confounded.  He  had  desired 
a  son  that  should  be  worthy  of  himself;  he  began 
to  fear  that  Eblis  had  granted  his  prayer  too  liter- 


THE  NEW  SOLOMON.  63 

ally.  He  admired  Omar  indeed ;  such  calculation 
at  so  tender  an  age  could  not  but  delight  a  man 
whose  whole  life  had  been  one  of  calculation. 
But  —  it  must  be  confessed  to  the  old  man's 
shame  —  this  precocious  experience  chilled  his 
heart,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  he  stood  appalled 
before  this  sage  of  fifteen. 


VI. 

VIRTUE   REWARDED. 

[OTHING  was  wanting  to  Mansour's 
happiness ;  during  the  five  remaining 
years  of  his  life  the  merchant  could 
fully  enjoy  the  education  and  success 
of  his  son.  He  saw  all  his  trade  pass  into  Omar's 
hands ;  the  wealth  of  his  house  became  enormous, 
and  as  is  always  the  case,  public  esteem  increased 
in  proportion  to  wealth.  How  could  Omar  help 
succeeding?  He  had  everything  in  his  favor; 
an  abundance  of  money,  few  passions,  and  no 
scruples.  None  had  ever  combined  to  such  a 
degree  what  constitutes  genius  in  business,  —  love 
of  gold  and  contempt  of  men.  Mansour  could 
therefore  breathe  his  last  in  peace.  His  life  had 
been  long,  disease  had  spared  his  old  age,  his 
dreams  were  realized,  and  he  was  sure  of  leaving 
an  heir  behind  him  who  would  keep  and  increase 
the  fortune  accumulated  with  such  difficulty ;  yet  it 
is  affirmed  that  the  Egyptian  died  with  his  heart 


VIRTUE  REWARDED.  65 

filled  with  rage,  crying  out  that  no  one  loved  him. 
execrating  his  folly,  and  trembling  at  the  sight  of 
his  treasures,  as  if  the  gold,  heated  in  the  infernal 
fire,  already  lay  a  burning  weight  on  his  breast 
and  brow. 

Omar  heard  of  his  father's  death  with  complete 
resignation.  Business  had  called  him  away  from 
his  dying  bed  ;  business  was  his  consolation.  His 
courage  was  worthy  of  admiration ;  at  the  mere 
sight  of  a  piastre,  he  dried  up  his  tears  and  stifled 
his  sorrow. 

Left  alone  with  so  noble  an  inheritance,  the  son 
of  Mansour  set  no  bounds  to  his  desires.  Noth- 
ing escaped  his  schemes;  it  seemed  as  if  from 
within  his  little  house  in  Djiddah,  like  the  spider 
in  his  web,  he  drew  all  the  wealth  of  the  world 
into  his  invisible  net.  Rice  and  sugar  from  India ; 
gum  and  coffee  from  Yemen ;  ivory,  gold  dust, 
and  slaves  from  Abyssinia ;  corn  from  Egypt ;  tis- 
sues from  Syria ;  ships  and  caravans,  —  all  came 
to  Omar.  Yet  never  did  man  welcome  good  for- 
tune more  modestly.  To  see  him  in  the  street  in 
his  rusty  clothes  and  scanty  turban,  his  eyes  cast 
down,  telling  his  wooden  beads  with  his  fingers, 
he  would  not  have  been  thought  worth  twenty 
thousand  piastres.  Nothing  betrayed  the  rich 
man  in  his  conversation ;  he  was  familiar  with  his 
inferiors,  free  and  easy  with  his  equals,  cringing 
toward  those  from  whom  he  hoped  for  anything, 
and  respectful  toward  those  who  had  it  in  their 
S 


66  ABDALLAH. 

power  to  do  him  an  injury.  According  to  him,  it 
was  a  great  mistake  to  attribute  to  him  a  large 
fortune  ;  all  this  merchandise  was  not  his  property, 
but  consignments  from  foreign  correspondents 
who  had  confidence  in  him,  —  a  confidence  which 
must  have  cost  him  dear,  for  he  constantly  com- 
plained of  losing  money.  If  he  bought  the 
handsomest  slaves,  the  richest  perfumes,  the 
choicest  tobacco,  and  the  rarest  stuffs,  it  was 
always  for  some  pacha  or  foreign  trader.  It  was 
whispered  that  these  treasures  never  left  the  Egyp- 
tian's house  —  who  can  silence  men's  tongues  ?  — 
but  nothing  certain  was  known.  Omar  had  no 
friends,  transacted  his  business  at  the  bazaar,  and 
received  no  visits.  Whether  he  was  poor  or  rich, 
a  sage  or  an  egotist,  humble  or  hypocritical,  was 
the  secret  of  Satan. 

His  prudence  was  on  a  par  with  his  modesty. 
Beginning  with  the  pacha  and  ending  with  the  col- 
lector of  customs,  there  was  not  an  officer  at 
Djiddah,  great  or  small,  with  whose  pipe-bearer, 
groom,  or  favorite  slave  Omar  was  not  acquainted. 
He  was  not  fond  of  giving,  and  often  repeated 
the  maxim  of  the  Koran  that  prodigals  are  the 
brethren  of  Satan  ;  but  he  knew  how  to  open  his 
hand  at  the  right  time,  and  no  one  ever  repented 
a  service  rendered  this  honest  man.  Pachas  pass 
away  quickly  at  Djiddah ;  the  hand  of  the  Turk 
is  heavy,  and  the  richest  merchants  were  often 
forced  to  pay  a  ransom.  The  son  of  Mansour 


VIRTUE  REWARDED,  67 

alone  escaped  these  loans,  which  are  never  repaid. 
Within  a  week,  by  one  means  or  another,  he  was 
the  friend,  it  was  even  said  the  banker,  of  the  new 
governor,  and  the  storm  which  had  threatened 
him  always  burst  on  other  heads  than  his,  so  that 
he  was  an  object  of  astonishment  and  envy  to  all 
his  brethren. 

The  day  came,  however,  when  his  star  paled. 
A  pacha,  who  had  made  a  fortune  in  three  months 
in  rather  too  obvious  a  manner,  was  recalled  to 
Constantinople,  and  his  successor  received  orders 
to  be  an  honest  man ;  the  government  being  anx- 
ious to  please  the  Franks,  of  whom,  unhappily,  it 
stood  in  need,  and  who  were  raising  a  great  out- 
cry. Turk  as  he  was,  the  new  pacha  understood 
how  to  give  satisfaction  in  high  places.  The  day 
after  his  arrival,  he  went  in  disguise  to  buy  pro- 
visions of  the  chief  butcher  and  baker  in  Djiddah. 
The  mohtesib,  or  inspector  of  the  market,  was 
forewarned,  and  was  ready  in  the  street,  with  his 
clerks  and  great  scales,  to  weigh  what  the  pacha 
had  just  bought.  The  twelve  pounds  of  bread  fell 
short  two  ounces,  and  the  huge  quarter  of  mutton 
one  ounce.  The  crime  was  a  flagrant  one,  and 
the  offenders  were  speedily  brought  to  justice. 
The  pacha  overwhelmed  the  wretches  who  fat- 
tened on  the  sweat  of  the  people  with  abuse  and 
reproaches,  and,  in  his  just  anger,  refused  to  listen 
to  their  defence,  but  ordered  them  to  be  instantly 
stripped,  bound,  and  bastinadoed,  after  which  by 


68  ABDALLAH. 

express  command  the  baker  was  nailed  by  the 
ear  to  his  shop  door,  and  the  butcher  was  fastened 
to  one  of  the  windows  of  the  great  mosque,  after 
having  his  nose  pierced  with  an  iron  wire  from 
which  the  ounce  of  meat  which  he  had  stolen  was 
suspended.  The  populace  heaped  every  species 
of  outrage  upon  the  two  unfortunates ;  God  was 
glorified  throughout  the  whole  city ;  the  pacha  was 
styled  the  friend  of  the  people,  the  lover  of  jus- 
tice, and  the  new  Haroun  Al-Raschid ;  and  the 
story  of  this  virtuous  deed,  after  rejoicing  the  sul- 
tan, spread  to  the  West,  to  the  confusion  and 
despair  of  the  infidels. 

The  same  evening  several  of  the  merchants 
freighted  a  ship  for  Egypt,  having  suddenly 
learned  that  their  presence  was  needed  at  Cairo. 
Omar,  instead  of  giving  way  to  terror,  calmly 
stroked  his  beard.  "  Virtue  is  a  kind  of  merchan- 
dise not  in  the  market,"  thought  he ;  "  when  it  is 
needed,  therefore,  it  must  be  bought  dear." 
Whereupon  he  repaired  to  the  bazaar,  chanced  to 
meet  the  pacha's  secretary,  made  him  sit  down 
beside  him,  and  offered  him  a  pipe  by  mistake 
that  had  been  designed  for  the  sultan. 

"  It  is  always  bad  policy  to  do  justice  to  the 
people,"  said  Omar  to  the  secretary ;  "  once  led 
into  bad  habits,  they  grow  exacting.  It  is  a  death- 
blow to  large  speculations."  The  secretary  gazed 
at  his  magnificent  pipe,  and  thought  Omar  a  man 
of  sense. 


VIRTUE  REWARDED.  69 

Alas  !  the  Egyptian  had  judged  but  too  rightly. 
The  first  market-day  grain  was  found  to  have 
risen  two  piastres  an  ardeb.1  The  populace  be- 
came excited ;  two  men  especially  talked  with  ex- 
treme vehemence,  —  the  butcher  whose  nose  had 
been  slit  and  the  one-eared  baker.  The  cheats 
of  yesterday  had  become  the  heroes  of  to-day ; 
they  were  pitied  as  victims,  and  the  more  they 
clamored,  the  more  they  were  admired. 

From  word  to  deed  there  is  but  a  step  among 
the  populace.  The  mob  was  already  attempting 
to  burst  open  Omar's  house  when  the  chief  of 
the  police,  surrounded  by  soldiers,  came  to  sum- 
mon the  merchant  before  the  pacha.  Omar  re- 
ceived the  officer  with  an  emotion  that  may  be 
easily  understood,  and  fervently  glued  his  lips  to 
his  hand  ;  but  the  chief  of  the  police  hastily  with- 
drew it,  and  thrust  it  clinched  into  his  girdle,  as 
if  polluted  by  the  kiss  of  a  criminal.  Neverthe- 
less, he  neither  abused  nor  maltreated  the  son  of 
Mansour,  to  the  great  displeasure  of  the  populace, 
which  loves  justice  and  is  not  sorry  to  see  a  man 
accused  of  crime  treated  as  though  convicted  of 
it,  especially  when  he  is  rich ;  on  the  contrary, 
the  chief  of  the  police  more  than  once  urged  the 
prisoner  to  rely  on  the  equity  of  the  governor. 

"  What  is  written  is  written,"  replied  the  Egyp- 
tian, telling  his  beads  one  by  one. 

The  doors  of  the  palace  were  open,  and  the 
1  About  five  bushels. 


70  ABDALLAH. 

people  thronged  into  the  courtyard,  where  the 
pacha  sat,  grave  and  impassive,  calming  the  tur- 
bulent passions  around  him  by  his  presence.  The 
two  accusers  were  brought  forward  ;  the  governor 
commanded  them  to  speak  without  fear.  "Jus- 
tice for  all  is  my  duty,"  said  he  aloud ;  "  rich  or 
poor,  no  plunderer  shall  find  grace  in  my  sight." 

"  God  is  great  and  the  pacha  is  just,"  cried  the 
crowd ;  whereupon  four  merchants,  quaking  with 
fear,  were  thrust  before  the  tribunal,  all  of  whom 
kissed  the  Koran  and  swore  that  Omar  had  bought 
from  them  all  the  corn  imported  from  Egypt. 

"  Death  !  death  !  "  cried  the  people.  The  pacha 
made  a  sign  that  the  accused  should  be  heard,  and 
silence  ensued. 

"  Oh,  my  lord  and  master,"  cried  Omar,  pros- 
trating his  forehead  on  the  earth,  "your  slave 
places  his  head  in  your  hands.  God  loves  those 
who  show  mercy ;  the  meaner  the  culprit,  the  more 
noble  is  it  not  to  crush  him.  Solomon  himself 
spared  the  ant.  It  is  true  that  I  have  bought  a 
few  cargoes  of  corn  in  the  harbor  of  Djiddah,  as 
any  honest  merchant  may  do ;  but  all  here,  except 
my  enemies,  know  that  the  purchase  was  made  for 
my  master  the  sultan.  This  corn  is  designed  for 
the  troops  posted  by  your  highness  on  the  road  to 
Mecca  for  the  protection  of  the  pilgrims ;  so,  at 
least,  I  was  told  by  your  highness's  secretary,  when 
he  gave  me  the  money  in  your  name,  which  a  poor 
man  like  me  was  not  able  to  advance.  May  my 


VIRTUE  REWARDED.  71 

master  pardon  me  for  delaying  so  long  to  send 
him  the  thousand  ardebs  of  corn  that  he  or- 
dered !  the  chief  of  the  police  will  tell  your1 
highness  that  force  alone  has  prevented  me  from 
obeying  him." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  a  thousand  ardebs  of 
corn?"  asked  the  governor,  fiercely. 

"  Forgive  me,  my  lord,"  returned  Omar,  in  an 
agitated  voice ;  "  I  am  so  much  troubled  that  it  is 
difficult  for  me  to  reckon  correctly.  I  believe 
that  it  was  fifteen  hundred,"  he  added,  gazing  at 
the  contracted  features  of  the  pacha,  "  if  not, 
indeed,  two  thousand." 

"  It  was  three  thousand,"  said  the  secretary, 
handing  a  paper  to  the  governor'.  "  Here  is  the 
order  given  to  this  man,  in  my  own  handwriting, 
under  the  seal  of  your  highness." 

"And  has  the  merchant  received  the  money?" 
asked  the  pacha,  in  a  softened  tone. 

"Yes,  your  excellency,"  replied  Omar,  bowing 
anew.  "The  chief  of  the  police,  here  present, 
will  tell  you  that  he  transmitted  this  order  to  me, 
and  your  highness's  secretary  advanced  me  yester- 
day the  two  hundred  thousand  piastres  which  I 
needed  for  the  purchase.  I  am  therefore  respon- 
sible to  the  pacha  for  two  hundred  thousand 
piastres  or  three  thousand  ardebs  of  corn." 

"  Then  what  is  all  this  noise  about?  "  exclaimed 
the  pacha,  looking  savagely  at  the  two  frightened 
accusers.  "  Is  this  the  respect  you  pay  my  master 


72  ABD  ALLAH. 

the  sultan?  Are  the  soldiers  who  protect  the 
holy  pilgrims  to  die  of  famine  in  the  desert? 
Seize  these  two  knaves,  and  give  each  of  them 
thirty  strokes  of  the  bastinado.  Justice  for  all, 
and  no  grace  for  false  witnesses.  To  accuse  an 
innocent  man  is  to  rob  him  of  more  than  life." 

"  Well  said,"  cried  the  multitude  ;  "  the  pacha 
is  right." 

The  sentence  pronounced,  the  butcher  was 
seized  by  four  soldiers,  who  did  not  scruple  to 
do  justice  in  their  own  cause.  A  running  noose 
was  passed  round  the  prisoner's  ankles  and  fas- 
tened to  a  stake,  after  which  one  of  the  Arnauts, 
armed  with  a  stick,  beat  the  soles  of  his  feet  with 
all  his  might.  The  butcher  was  a  hero  in  his 
way ;  he  counted  the  strokes  one  by  one,  and,  the 
punishment  being  ended,  was  carried  off  by  his 
friends,  casting  furious  glances  at  Omar.  The 
one- eared  man  was  less  resolute ;  at  every  blow 
he  uttered  Allah  !  with  a  groan  that  might  have 
melted  a  heart  of  stone.  At  the  twelfth  stroke 
Omar  kissed  the  ground  before  the  pacha  and 
entreated  pardon  for  the  culprit,  which  was  gra- 
ciously granted.  This  was  not  all ;  he  slipped  a 
douro  into  the  wounded  man's  hand  before  all 
the  people,  and  declared  that  he  had  thirty  ardebs 
of  corn  left,  which  should  be  divided  among  the 
poor ;  then  returned  home  amid  the  blessings  of 
those  very  persons  who,  an  hour  before,  were 
ready  to  tear  him  to  pieces.  Praises  or  threats, 


VIRTUE  REWARDED.  73 

he  received  both  with  the  same  humility  or  the 
same  indifference.  "  Allah  be  praised  !  "  said 
he,  on  entering  his  house.  "  The  pacha  drove 
rather  a  hard  bargain,  but  now  I  have  him  in 
my  hands." 

Tranquil  in  this  respect,  the  son  of  Mansour 
resumed  his  ingenious  schemes.  Thanks  to  him, 
the  wealth  of  Djiddah  increased  daily.  One 
morning,  on  waking,  the  slave-dealers  learned 
with  joy  that  the  price  of  their  merchandise  had 
doubled.  Unfortunately,  they  had  sold  all  they 
had  the  day  before  to  Omar,  to  fill  an  order  from 
Egypt.  The  next  month  it  was  rice,  then  tobacco, 
wax,  coffee,  sugar,  and  gold  dust.  Everything 
rose  in  value ;  but  Omar's  correspondents  were 
always  the  ones  that  profited  by  this  sudden  rise. 
In  this  manner  Djiddah  became  an  opulent  mar- 
ket, so  wealthy,  indeed,  that  the  poor  could  no 
longer  live  there ;  though  the  rich  acquired  fortunes 
by  buying  the  good  graces  of  the  Egyptian. 

As  to  him,  seated  every  day  at  his  counter, 
more  honeyed  than  ever  to  those  of  whom  he 
had  need,  he  passed  the  hours  in  counting  on 
his  beads  the  millions  of  piastres  that  he  accumu- 
lated in  all  directions.  He  said  to  himself  in  his 
heart  that,  despised  as  he  was,  he  was  the  master 
of  men,  and  that  should  he  need  the  assistance  of 
the  sultan,  he  was  rich  enough  to  buy  him  as  well 
as  his  seraglio  in  the  bargain. 

Men  do  not  grow  rich  with  impunity.     It  is  as 


74  ABDALLAH. 

impossible  to  hide  fortune  as  smoke.  Despite  all 
his  humility,  Omar  received  an  invitation  from 
the  grand  sherif  of  Mecca  to  repair  to  Taif  for  an 
important  service,  which  he  alone,  it  was  said, 
could  render  the  descendant  of  the  Prophet.  The 
merchant  was  less  elated  by  the  honor  than  dis- 
mayed at  the  service  which  might  be  asked  of 
him.  "The  rich  have  two  kinds  of  foes,"  said 
he,  "  the  small  and  the  great.  The  first  are  like 
the  ants,  that  empty  the  house  grain  by  grain ; 
the  second  like  the  lion,  the  king  of  robbers,  that 
flays  us  with  one  stroke  of  his  paw.  But  with 
patience  and  cunning,  it  is  easier  to  shake  off  the 
lion  than  the  ant.  Let  us  see  what  the  sherif 
desires ;  if  he  wishes  to  deceive  me,  I  will  not  be 
duped  by  him ;  if  he  wishes  to  be  paid,  he  shall 
give  me  the  worth  of  the  money." 

It  was  with  this  respect  for  the  Commander  of 
the  Faithful  that  Omar  took  the  way  to  Taif.  The 
sight  of  the  desert  soon  changed  the  current  of 
his  thoughts.  The  tents  and  the  clumps  of  palm- 
trees  scattered  amid  the  sands  recalled  his  child- 
hood, and  for  the  first  time  his  brother  Abdallah 
recurred  to  his  memory.  "  Who  knows,"  he 
thought,  "whether  by  chance  I  may  not  need 
him?" 


VII. 
BARSIM. 

HILE  the  son  of  Mansour  abandoned 
himself  to  the  love  of  gain,  as  if  he 
were  to  live  forever,  Abdallah  grew  in 
piety,  wisdom,  and  virtue.  He  had 
adopted  his  father's  calling,  and  guided  the  cara- 
vans between  Yambo,  Medina,  and  Mecca.  As 
ardent  as  the  young  horse  that  flings  his  mane  to 
the  wind,  and  as  prudent  as  a  graybeard,  he  had 
gained  the  confidence  of  the  principal  merchants, 
and,  despite  his  youth,  it  was  he  that  was  recom- 
mended by  preference  to  the  pilgrims  when  they 
thronged  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  in  the  sacred 
month,  to  march  seven  times  round  the  holy  Caaba, 
encamp  on  Mount  Arafat,  and  offer  sacrifices  in 
the  valley  of  the  Mina.  These  journeys  were  not 
without  peril.  The  Bedouin  had  more  than  once 
risked  his  life  to  protect  those  under  his  keeping, 
but  he  had  fought  so  well  that  all  on  his  route 
were  beginning  to  respect  and  fear  him.  The 
aged  Hafiz  never  quitted  his  pupil ;  crippled  as  he 


7  6  ABD  ALLAH. 

was,  he  always  found  means  to  be  useful.  Wher- 
ever there  are  men,  there  are  always  stout  arms 
and  resolute  hearts,  but  not  always  a  faithful 
friend  and  wise  counsellor. 

This  life,  interspersed  with  repose  and  alarm, 
peace  and  danger,  was  delightful  to  the  son  of 
Yusuf.  To  live  a  brave  man,  and  die  like  a  sol- 
dier, in  case  of  need,  as  his  father  had  done,  was 
Abdallah's  sole  ambition.  His  wishes  went  no 
farther.  Nevertheless,  a  cloud  overshadowed  the 
serenity  of  his  soul.  Halima  had  told  him  of  the 
dervish,  and  the  child  of  the  desert  thought  con- 
tinually of  the  mysterious  plant  which  had  the  gift 
of  bestowing  happiness  and  virtue. 

Hafiz,  to  whom  Abdallah  first  opened  his  heart, 
saw  in  this  thought  nothing  but  a  wile  of  Satan. 
"  What  is  the  use  of  troubling  yourself?  "  he  said. 
"  God  tells  us  how  to  please  him  in  the  Koran ; 
he  has  but  one  law,  —  do  what  he  bids,  and  have  no 
farther  anxiety ;  our  business  is  only  with  the  pres- 
ent moment." 

These  words  failed  to  appease  the  curiosity  of 
Abdallah.  Hafiz  had  told  him  so  many  marvels 
which  he  did  not  doubt,  why  should  he  not  be- 
lieve the  story  of  this  talisman  to  be  true,  and  why 
might  not  one  of  the  faithful  discover  it  ?  "  We 
dwellers  among  the  tents  are  unlearned,"  thought 
the  Bedouin ;  "  what  hinders  me  from  questioning 
the  pilgrims  ?  God  has  dispersed  the  truth  abroad 
throughout  the  earth;  who  knows  whether  some 


BARSIM.  7  7 

hadji  of  the  East  or  West  may  not  know  the  secret 
which  I  am  seeking?  The  dervish  did  not  an- 
swer my  mother  at  random  ;  and  with  God's  help 
I  will  find  the  right  path." 

A  short  time  after,  Abdallah  guided  to  Mecca  a 
caravan  of  pilgrims  from  Egypt.  At  the  head  of 
the  troop  was  a  physician,  who  talked  constantly, 
laughed  without  ceasing,  and  doubted  everything, 
— a  Frank,  it  was  said,  who  had  abjured  his  er- 
rors to  enter  the  service  of  the  pacha.  Abdallah  re- 
solved to  question  him.  As  they  passed  a  meadow, 
he  gathered  a  sprig  of  shamrock  in  blossom,  and 
presenting  it  to  the  stranger,  "  Is  this  plant  known 
in  your  country?"  said  he. 

"  Certainly,"  answered  the  physician.  "  It  is 
what  you  call  barsim,  and  we  trifolium.  It  is  the 
Alexandrian  trefoil,  family  leguminosae,  calyx  tubu- 
lar, corolla  persistent,  petals  divided  into  three 
segments  or  foliolse,  and  sometimes  into  four  or 
even  five,  though  this  is  an  exception,  or,  as  we 
say,  a  monstrosity." 

"  Is  there  no  species  of  shamrock,  then,  in  your 
country  that  always  has  four  leaves?  " 

"  No,  my  young  scholar,  neither  in  my  country 
nor  anywhere  else.  Why  do  you  ask?  " 

Abdallah  gave  him  his  confidence,  whereupon 
he  burst  out  laughing.  "  My  child,"  said  he,  "  the 
dervish  was  fooling  your  mother.  She  asked  what 
was  impossible  of  him,  and  he  promised  her  what 
was  impossible." 


78  ABD ALLAH. 

"Why  should  not  God  create  a  four-leaved 
shamrock  if  he  wished?"  asked  the  Bedouin, 
wounded  by  the  stranger's  disdainful  smile. 

"Why,  young  man?  Because  the  earth  pro- 
duced all  the  plants  on  one  day  by  virtue  of  a 
germinating  power  which  was  then  exhausted. 
Since  the  time  of  King  Solomon  there  has  been 
nothing  new  under  the  sun." 

"  And  if  God  wished  to  work  a  miracle,  is  his 
power  exhausted?"  said  Hafiz,  who  had  ap- 
proached the  travellers.  "  He  who  drew  the  seven 
heavens  and  the  seven  earths  from  the  smoke  in 
the  space  of  two  days,  and  set  them  five  hundred 
days'  march  from  each  other;  he  who  ordered 
the  night  to  envelop  the  day ;  he  who  planted  life 
everywhere,  —  could  he  not  add  a  new  blade  of 
grass  to  the  millions  of  plants  which  he  has  created 
for  the  food  and  pleasure  of  man?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  physician,  in  a  mocking 
tone ;  "  I  am  too  good  a  Mussulman  to  pretend 
the  contrary.  God  might  also  send  his  thunder- 
bolt to  light  my  pipe  that  has  just  gone  out,  but 
he  does  not  wish  to  do  it ;  on  the  contrary,  he 
wishes  me  to  ask  you  for  a  little  fire."  With 
these  words  he  began  to  puff  his  pipe  and  to 
whistle  a  foreign  air. 

"Accursed  be  unbelievers  !  "  cried  the  cripple. 
"  Come,  my  son,  leave  this  miscreant,  whose 
breath  is  death.  If  it  is  in  punishment  for  our 
sins  that  God  has  given  the  Franks  the  knowledge 


BAR  SIM.  79 

that  makes  their  power,  it  is  also  to  chastise  these 
dogs,  and  hurry  them  faster  toward  the  bottom- 
less pit.  Madmen,  who,  to  deny  God,  make  use 
of  his  very  power,  and  the  perpetual  miracle  of 
his  goodness  !  Begone,  infidel !  "  he  added,  rais- 
ing his  hand  to  heaven,  as  if  to  call  down  its 
thunders  on  the  head  of  the  renegade ;  "  begone, 
ingrate,  who  turnest  thy  back  upon  the  Lord  ! 
God  beholds  the  innermost  recesses  of  thy  soul ; 
thou  wilt  die  in  despair,  and  wilt  feed  forever  on 
the  tree  of  hell,  with  its  bitter  fruit  and  poisoned 
thorns." 

At  the  other  end  of  the  caravan  walked  a  Per- 
sian, with  a  white  beard  and  a  tall  sheepskin  hat, 
the  poorest  and  most  aged  of  the  band,  as  well  as 
the  most  despised,  for  he  was  of  a  heretical  nation. 
The  old  man  seemed  unconscious  of  his  poverty, 
age,  and  solitude.  He  spoke  to  no  one,  ate  little, 
and  smoked  all  day  long.  Perched  on  a  lean 
camel,  he  passed  his  whole  time  in  turning  in  his 
fingers  the  ninety-nine  beads  of  his  rosary,  lifting 
his  trembling  head  meanwhile  toward  heaven,  and 
murmuring  mysterious  words.  The  poor  man's 
gentleness  and  piety  had  touched  Abdallah's  heart. 
Too  young  as  yet  to  know  hatred,  it  was  with  the 
heretic  that  the  son  of  Yusuf  sought  a  refuge  from 
the  unbeliever. 

The  animated  face  and  sparkling  eyes  of  the 
young  guide  touched  the  heart  of  the  dervish,  who 
welcomed  the  confidence  that  he  divined  with  a 


80  ABDALLAH. 

kindly  smile.  "  My  son,"  said  he,  "  God  give  thee 
the  wit  of  Plato,  the  knowledge  of  Aristotle,  the 
star  of  Alexander,  and  the  happiness  of  Cosroes  !  " 

"  My  father,  thou  speakest  well,"  cried  Abdal- 
lah  ;  "  it  is  knowledge  that  I  need, — not  the  knowl- 
edge of  a  heathen,  but  that  of  a  true  Mussulman, 
to  whom  faith  opens  the  treasure  of  truth." 

"  Speak,  my  son,"  returned  the  old  man ;  "  per- 
chance I  can  serve  thee.  Truth  is  like  the  pearl : 
he  alone  possesses  it  who  has  plunged  into  the 
depths  of  life  and  torn  his  hands  on  the  rocks  of 
time.  What  thou  seekest  I  perhaps  have  found. 
Who  knows  whether  I  may  not  be  able  to  give 
thee  the  light  which  thou  enviest,  and  which  is 
now  valueless  to  my  dim  eyes?  " 

Won  by  such  kindliness,  Abdallah  poured  out 
his  soul  before  the  dervish,  who  listened  in  silence. 
The  confidence  ended,  the  old  man  for  his  sole 
answer  drew  a  lock  of  white  wool  from  the  mat 
on  which  he  was  sitting,  and  cast  it  to  the  wind ; 
then,  swaying  his  body  like  a  drunken  man,  and 
fixing  a  strange  gaze  on  Abdallah,  he  improvised 
the  following  lines,  — 

"  Tulip  with  dark  corolla,  charming  cypress, 

Young  man,  with  eyes  more  black  and  soft  than  night, 
Seest  thou  yon  white  speck  fluttering  in  the  breeze  ? 
Thus  pass  our  days,  —  a  dream  that  soon  is  told ! 
The  desert  rain  less  speedily  dries  up, 
The  falling  rose  less  quickly  fades  away  ; 
All  cheats  or  fails  us,  and  the  noblest  life 
Is  but  the  long  sigh  of  a  last  adieu. 


BAR  SIM.  8 1 

God  alone  is  true  ;  God  alone  is  great ;  alone  is  God ! 

Wouldst  thou,  my  child,  that  in  the  sacred  book 

Thy  guardian  angel  should  inscribe  thy  name  ? 

Flee  the  intoxicating  joys  of  sense. 

God  loves  a  heart  unsullied  by  the  world. 

The  body  naught  is  but  a  sepulchre ; 

Happy  the  man  who  breaks  its  deadening  bonds, 

To  plunge  into  the  depths  of  boundless  love  1 

To  live  in  God  is  death ;  to  die  in  God  is  life  1  " 

"  Thy  words  inflame  my  heart,"  said  Abdallah ; 
"  but  thou  dost  not  answer  me." 

"  What,  my  son  !  "  cried  the  mystic,  "  dost 
thou  not  understand  me  ?  The  four-leaved  sham- 
rock does  not  exist  on  earth ;  thou  must  seek  it 
elsewhere.  The  four-leaved  shamrock  is  a  symbol, 
—  it  is  the  impossible,  the  ineffable,  the  infinite  ! 
Wouldst  thou  possess  it?  I  will  reveal  to  thee 
the  secret.  Stifle  thy  senses;  become  blind, 
mute,  and  deaf ;  quit  the  city  of  existence ;  be 
like  a  traveller  in  the  kingdom  of  nothingness; 
plunge  into  ecstatic  rapture ;  and  when  nothing 
more  causes  your  heart  to  beat,  when  you  have 
encircled  your  brow  with  the  glorious  crown  of 
death,  then,  my  son,  thou  wilt  find  eternal  love, 
and  be  swallowed  up  in  it  like  a  drop  of  water  in 
the  vast  ocean.  This  is  life  !  When  nothing  was 
yet  in  being,  love  existed ;  when  nothing  more 
remains,  love  will  endure ;  it  is  the  first  and  the 
last ;  it  is  God  and  man ;  it  is  the  Creator  and 
the  creature  ;  it  is  the  height  above,  and  the  depth 
below ;  it  is  everything." 
6 


82  ABD  ALLAH. 

"  Old  man,"  said  the  Bedouin,  affrighted,  "  age 
has  weakened  thy  reason ;  thou  dost  not  feel  that 
thou  art  blaspheming.  God  alone  existed  before 
the  world  had  being,  God  alone  will  remain  when 
the  heavens  shall  have  crushed  the  earth  in  their 
fall.  He  is  the  first  and  the  last,  the  manifest 
and  the  hidden;  he  is  mighty  and  wise;  he 
knoweth  all  things,  and  is  able  to  do  all  things." 

The  old  man  did  not  hear;  he  seemed  in  a 
dream ;  his  lips  moved,  his  eyes  were  fixed  and 
sightless ;  a  vision  carried  far  from  the  earth  this 
victim  of  the  delusions  of  Satan.  Abdallah  re- 
turned mournfully  to  Hafiz  and  related  to  him 
this  new  disappointment. 

"  My  child,"  said  the  cripple,  "  flee  these  mad- 
men who  intoxicate  themselves  with  visions  like 
others  with  opium  or  hashish.  They  are  idola- 
ters who  worship  themselves.  Poor  fools  !  does 
the  eye  create  the  light?  does  the  mind  of  man 
create  the  truth?  Woe  to  him  who  draws  from 
his  brain  a  world  lighter  and  more  hollow  than  a 
bubble ;  woe  to  him  who  sets  man  on  the  throne 
of  God  !  As  soon  as  he  enters  the  city  of  dreams 
he  is  lost;  God  is  effaced,  faith  evaporates,  the 
will  becomes  lifeless,  and  the  soul  is  stifled ;  it  is 
the  reign  of  darkness  and  death." 


VIII. 

THE   JEW. 

fOUTH  is  the  season  of  hope  and  de- 
sire. Despite  his  discomfiture,  Ab- 
dallah  did  not  tire  of  questioning  the 
pilgrims  whom  he  guided  to  Mecca, 
still  relying  on  a  happy  chance ;  but  Persia, 
Syria,  Egypt,  Turkey,  and  India  were  mute,  —  no 
one  had  heard  of  the  four-leaved  shamrock. 
Hafiz  condemned  a  curiosity  which  he  thought 
guilty,  while  Halima  consoled  her  son  by  making 
him  believe  that  she  still  hoped  with  him. 

One  day,  when  Abdallah  had  retired  to  his  tent 
more  melancholy  than  usual,  and  was  debating  in 
his  own  mind  whether  he  would  not  do  well  to 
quit  his  tribe  and  go  to  foreign  lands  in  search  of 
the  talisman  that  evaded  his  grasp,  a  Jew  entered 
the  enclosure  to  ask  hospitality.  He  was  a  little 
old  man,  dressed  in  rags,  so  thin  that  his  girdle 
seemed  to  cut  him  in  two.  Leaning  on  a  staff,  he 
slowly  dragged  along  his  feet,  wrapped  in  bloody 
rags,  and  he  raised  his  head  from  time  to  time  and 


84  ABDALLAH. 

looked  around  as  if  imploring  pity.  His  wrinkled 
brow,  his  inflamed  eyelids,  his  thin  lips  which 
scarcely  covered  his  toothless  gums,  his  disordered 
beard  which  fell  to  his  waist,  everything  about  him 
bespoke  want  and  suffering.  The  stranger  per- 
ceived Abdallah,  and  stretched  out  his  trembling 
hand  to  him,  murmuring  in  a  weak  voice,  "  O 
master  of  the  tent,  behold  a  guest  of  God  !  " 

Wholly  absorbed  in  his  thoughts,  the  son  of 
Yusuf  heard  nothing.  The  old  man  had  already 
thrice  repeated  his  prayer  when  unhappily  he 
turned  his  head  toward  a  neighboring  tent,  where 
a  negress  was  nursing  her  child.  At  the  sight  of 
the  Jew  the  woman  hid  her  babe  to  preserve  it 
from  the  evil  eye,  and  rushing  from  her  tent, 
cried,  "  Begone,  thou  wretch,  worthy  to  be 
stoned !  Hast  thou  come  here  to  bring  mis- 
fortune? May  as  many  curses  light  on  thee  as 
there  are  hairs  in  thy  beard  !  "  And  calling  the 
dogs,  she  set  them  on  the  wretched  man,  who 
tried  to  flee  ;  but  his  foot  caught  in  his  robe  and 
he  fell,  uttering  lamentable  cries,  too  weak  to 
drive  off  the  enemies  that  were  tearing  him. 

His  shrieks  roused  Abdallah.  To  rush  to  the 
Jew,  punish  the  dogs,  and  threaten  the  slave  was 
the  work  of  an  instant.  He  picked  up  the  Jew, 
took  him  in  his  arms,  and  carried  him  into  the 
tent ;  a  moment  after  he  was  washing  his  feet  and 
hands,  and  binding  up  his  wounds,  while  Halima 
brought  him  dates  and  milk. 


THE  JEW.  85 

"  I  bless  thee,  my  son,"  said  the  old  man,  in 
tears.  "  The  blessing  of  the  meanest  of  mankind 
is  never  contemptible  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord. 
May  God  remove  far  from  thee  jealousy,  sadness, 
and  pride,  and  grant  thee  wisdom,  patience,  and 
peace,  —  the  gifts  that  he  has  promised  to  the 
generous  of  heart  like  thee  !  " 

At  evening,  Hafiz,  Abdallah,  and  the  Jew 
talked  long  together  round  their  frugal  repast, 
although  the  cripple  could  not  conceal  his  repug- 
nance to  the  son  of  Israel.  Abdallah,  on  the 
contrary,  listened  to  the  old  man  with  interest, 
for  the  stranger  was  a  great  traveller,  and  told 
them  of  his  journeyings.  He  was  acquainted 
with  Muscat,  Hindostan,  and  Persia ;  he  had 
visited  the  country  of  the  Franks  and  crossed  the 
deserts  of  Africa ;  he  had  now  come  from  Egypt 
through  Soudan,  and  was  returning  to  Jerusalem 
by  the  way  of  Syria. 

"  But  the  object  of  my  search  is  not  wealth,  my 
dear  host,"  said  the  Jew ;  "  more  than  once  have 
I  seen  it  on  the  roadside  and  passed  it  by.  Pov- 
erty befits  the  children  of  Abraham,  say  our 
sages,  as  do  scarlet  trappings  the  snow-white 
steed.  What  I  have  pursued  for  half  a  century 
over  deserts  and  seas,  through  fatigue  and  misery, 
is  the  Word  of  God,  the  sacred  tradition.  That 
unwritten  word,  which  God  gave  to  Moses  on 
Mount  Sinai,  was  confided  by  Moses  to  the  keep- 
ing of  Joshua;  Joshua  transmitted  it  to  the 


86  ABDALLAH. 

seventy  elders,  the  elders  to  the  prophets,  and  the 
prophets  to  the  synagogue.  After  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem,  our  masters  collected  it  in  the 
Talmud,  but  how  far  were  they  from  possessing 
it  entire  !  To  punish  the  sins  of  our  fathers, 
God  broke  asunder  the  truth,  and  scattered  the 
fragments  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  Happy 
is  he  who  can  gather  together  these  dispersed 
shreds,  —  happy  is  he  who  can  discover  a  ray  of 
the  divine  splendor !  The  children  of  the  age 
may  despise  and  hate  him ;  their  insults  are  to 
his  soul  like  the  rain  to  the  earth,  —  in  bursting 
it  asunder,  they  purify  and  refresh  it." 

"And  are  you  this  man,  my  father?"  said  Ab- 
dallah,  so  deeply  moved  by  the  words  of  his  guest 
that  he  quite  forgot  that  he  was  talking  with  an 
infidel.  "  Have  you  discovered  this  treasure  ? 
Do  you  possess  the  whole  truth?  " 

"  I  am  but  a  worm  of  the  earth,"  replied  the 
Jew ;  "  but  from  my  childhood  up  I  have  ques- 
tioned the  masters,  and  entreated  them  to  repeat 
to  me  the  secrets  of  the  law;  I  have  sought  in 
the  Cabala  for  the  wealth  that  is  thought  valueless 
in  the  marts  of  the  world,  and  I  have  endeavored 
to  decipher  that  language  of  numbers  which  is 
the  key  to  all  truth.  How  far  I  have  succeeded 
God  alone  can  judge ;  to  him  be  the  praise  ! 
One  thing  is  certain,  —  namely,  that  the  angel 
Razriel  initiated  Adam  into  the  mysteries  of  the 
creation ;  and  who  dare  say  that  this  revelation  is 


THE  JEW.  87 

lost  ?  If  there  lives  a  man  who  has  lifted  a  cor- 
ner of  the  veil,  he  has  nothing  more  to  hope  or 
fear  on  earth ;  he  has  had  his  day,  and  is  ready 
for  death." 

"My  father,"  inquired  the  young  Bedouin, 
trembling,  "  has  your  science  told  you  of  a 
sacred  plant  which  at  once  bestows  virtue  and 
happiness?  " 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  old  man,  smiling ;  "  it 
is  treated  of  in  the  Zohar,  with  many  other 
marvels." 

"  It  is  the  four-leaved  shamrock,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"Perchance,"  returned  the  Jew,  with  a  frown; 
"but  how  did  this  name  reach  your  ears?" 

When  the  son  of  Yusuf  had  finished  his  story, 
the  old  man  gazed  at  him  tenderly.  "  My  son," 
said  he,  "  the  poor  often  repay  hospitality  better 
than  the  rich,  for  God  himself  holds  the  purse- 
strings.  The  secret  which  thou  art  seeking  I 
long  ago  discovered  in  the  recesses  of  Persia; 
and  since  God  has  led  my  steps  to  thy  tent,  it 
is  doubtless  because  he  has  chosen  me  to  bring 
thee  the  truth.  Listen,  therefore,  and  let  what  I 
am  about  to  tell  thee  be  engraven  on  thy  heart." 

Hafiz  and  Abdallah  drew  near  the  old  man, 
who  related  the  following  tale  in  a  low  and  mys- 
terious voice,  — 

"  You  know  that  when  God  drove  our  first 
father  Adam  from  Paradise,  he  permitted  him 
to  carry  with  him  upon  earth  the  date-tree  to 


88  ABDALLAH. 

serve  as  his  nourishment,  and  the  camel,  which 
was  moulded  of  the  same  clay  as  himself,  and 
which  could  not  exist  without  him." 

"  That  is  true,"  exclaimed  the  cripple.  "  When 
my  young  camels  come  into  the  world,  they  would 
die  of  hunger  if  I  did  not  hold  their  heads  to  their 
mother's  udders ;  the  camel  is  made  for  us,  as  we 
are  for  the  camel." 

"  When  the  flaming  sword  drove  the  first  crim- 
inals before  it,  Adam  cast  a  look  of  despair  at  the 
abode  which  he  was  forced  to  forsake,  and,  to 
carry  with  him  a  last  memento,  broke  off  a  branch 
of  myrtle.  The  angel  let  him  alone  ;  he  remem- 
bered that  by  God's  command  he  had  formerly 
worshipped  the  mortal  whom  now  he  pitied." 

"  True  ! "  said  Hafiz.  "  It  was  the  same  branch 
of  myrtle  that  Shoaib  long  after  gave  to  his  son- 
in-law  Moses ;  it  was  the  staff  with  which  the 
prophet  tended  his  flocks,  and  with  which  he 
afterward  wrought  his  miracles  in  Egypt." 

"  Eve  also  paused  in  tears  before  those  flowers 
and  trees  which  she  had  loved  so  well ;  but  the 
sword  was  pitiless,  and  she  was  forced  to  proceed. 
Just  as  she  was  about  to  go  out,  she  hastily  snatched 
one  of  the  plants  of  Paradise.  The  angel  shut 
his  eyes  as  he  had  done  with  Adam.  What  the 
plant  was  Eve  knew  not ;  she  had  clutched  it  in 
her  flight,  and  had  instantly  closed  her  hand. 
She  would  have  been  wise  had  she  carried  it 
away  in  the  same  manner;  but  curiosity  once 


THE  JEW.  89 

more  prevailed  over  prudence,  and  before  cross- 
ing the  fatal  threshold,  our  mother  opened  her 
hand  to  see  what  she  had  gathered.  It  was  the 
four-leaved  shamrock,  the  most  brilliant  of  all  the 
flowers  of  Paradise.  One  leaf  was  red  like  cop- 
per, another  white  like  silver,  the  third  yellow 
like  gold,  and  the  fourth  glittering  like  diamond. 
Eve  paused  to  look  at  her  treasure,  when  the 
fiery  sword  touched  her;  she  started,  her  hand 
trembled,  and  the  diamond  leaf  fell  within  the 
gates  of  Paradise,  while  the  other  three  leaves, 
swept  away  by  the  wind,  were  scattered  over  the 
earth ;  where  they  fell  God  alone  knows." 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  young  man,  "have 
they  never  since  been  seen?" 

"  Not  that  I  know  of;  and  it  is  even  possible 
that  the  story  is  only  an  allegory,  concealing  some 
profound  truth." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Abdallah,  "  that  is  not  so. 
Try  to  remember,  my  father ;  perchance  you  will 
recall  something  more.  I  must  have  this  plant 
at  any  price ;  I  wish  it,  and  with  God's  aid  I 
will  have  it." 

The  old  man  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and 
long  remained  absorbed  in  contemplation.  Ab- 
dallah and  Hafiz  scarcely  dared  breathe  for  fear 
of  disturbing  his  revery.  "  My  efforts  are  in 
vain ;  I  can  recall  nothing  to  memory,"  said  he, 
at  last ;  "  perhaps  my  book  will  give  me  some 
information."  He  took  from  his  girdle  a  yellow 


90  ABDALLAH. 

manuscript  volume,  with  a  black,  greasy  cover, 
turned  the  pages  slowly,  carefully  examined  the 
squares,  circles,  and  alphabets  mixed  with  figures, 
beginning  some  with  aleph  and  others  with  thau, 
the  last  letter  of  the  Hebrew  alphabet.  "  Here 
are  four  lines  which  are  repeated  in  Soudan,  and 
which  may  interest  you,"  said  he,  at  last,  "  but 
their  meaning  escapes  me,  — 

"  '  There  is  a  mysterious  herb 

That  grows  hidden  from  human  eyes  ; 
Seek  it  not  upon  earth, 
'T  will  be  found  above  in  the  skies.' 

"  Patience,  patience,"  he  added,  seeing  Abdal- 
lah's  emotion,  "  the  words  have  more  than  one 
meaning ;  the  ignorant  seek  to  fish  up  truth  from 
the  surface,  the  wise  pursue  it  to  the  remotest 
depths,  where  they  attain  it,  thanks  to  the  most 
powerful  of  instruments,  the  sacred  decade  of  the 
Sephiroth.  Do  you  not  remember  the  saying  of 
one  of  our  masters,  the  Rabbi  Halaphta,  the  son 
of  Dozza? 

" '  Seek  not  heaven  in  yonder  azure  depths, 

Where  glows  the  burning  sun  and  pales  the  moon  ; 
For  heaven,  my  son,  lies  hid  in  thine  own  soul, 
And  Paradise  is  naught  but  a  pure  heart.' 

Yes,"  he  continued,  raising  his  voice,  "  I  discern 
a  light  that  guides  me.  Since  God  has  permitted 
us  to  meet,  he  has  doubtless  decreed  that  you 
shall  find  what  you  desire ;  but  beware  of  out- 
stripping his  will  by  a  vain  and  guilty  curiosity. 


THE  JEW.  91 

Follow  his  law,  execute  his  commands,  create  a 
heaven  in  your  soul,  and  some  day,  perchance, 
when  you  least  expect  it,  you  will  find  the  desired 
reward.  This,  at  least,  is  all  that  my  science  can 
tell  you." 

"  Well  spoken,  old  man,"  said  Hafiz,  laying  his 
hand  on  Abdallah's  shoulder.  "  Nephew,"  he 
added,  "  God  is  master  of  the  hour ;  wait  and 
obey." 


IX. 

THE   WELL   OF   ZOBEYDE. 

jjHE  night  was  a  sweet  one  to  Abdallah. 
He  saw  the  mysterious  plant  more 
than  once  in  his  dreams,  and  as 
soon  as  he  awakened,  he  sought  to 
retain  the  friend  who  had  given  him  hope ;  but 
the  Jew  obstinately  refused  his  entreaty. 

"  No,  my  son,"  said  he,  "  one  night  in  thy  tent 
is  enough.  The  first  day  a  man  is  a  guest,  the 
second  a  burden,  the  third  a  pest.  Thou  hast 
nothing  more  to  tell  me,  and  I  have  nothing  more 
to  teach  thee  ;  it  is  time  for  us  to  part.  Let  me 
thank  thee  once  more,  and  pray  God  in  thy  be- 
half. If  we  have  no  longer  the  same  keblah,1  at 
least  we  are  both  the  children  of  Abraham,  and 
both  worship  the  same  God." 

The  only  favor  that  Abdallah  could  obtain  was 
for  the  Jew  to  mount  a  camel,  and  permit  his  two 

1  The  point  of  the  horizon  toward  which  men  turn  their 
faces  in  prayer ;  the  Mohammedans  turn  toward  Mecca, 
the  Jews  toward  Jerusalem. 


THE  W'ELL  OP  ZOBEYDE.  93 

friends  to  accompany  him  a  day's  journey  on  his 
way.  Hafiz  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  stranger, 
and  Abdallah  hoped  to  gain  some  new  light  on 
the  subject  nearest  his  heart ;  but  the  sight  of  the 
desert  awakened  new  ideas  in  the  old  man's  mind, 
and  he  thought  no  more  of  the  stories  of  the  past 
night. 

"  If  I  am  not  mistaken,"  said  he  to  Hafiz, 
"  we  shall  find  on  our  way  the  well  dug  in  olden 
times  by  the  Sultan  Zobeyde  in  his  pilgrimage 
to  Mecca." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  cripple,  "  it  is  Haroun  Al- 
Raschid's  monument  in  our  country.  To  the  calif 
and  his  pious  wife  we  owe  our  finest  gardens." 

"A  glorious  monument,"  exclaimed  the  Jew, 
"and  one  that  will  endure  when  what  men  call 
glory  —  that  is,  blood  uselessly  shed  and  money 
foolishly  spent  —  shall  be  forgotten." 

"Spoken  like  one  of  the  children  of  Israel," 
rejoined  Hafiz.  "You  are  a  shop-keeping  peo- 
ple. A  Bedouin  reasons  in  a  different  fashion. 
War  to  him  is  the  best  thing  of  all  that  earth 
affords.  He  who  has  not  looked  death  in  the 
face  knows  not  whether  he  is  a  man.  It  is  noble 
to  strike  with  the  front  to  the  foe ;  it  is  glo- 
rious to  overthrow  an  enemy  and  avenge  those 
we  love.  Are  you  not  of  the  same  mind,  my 
nephew?  " 

"  You  are  right,  my  uncle ;  but  battle  is  not 
pleasure  without  alloy.  I  remember  the  time 


94  ABDALLAH. 

when,  closely  pressed  by  a  Bedouin  who  held  a 
pistol  to  my  head,  I  plunged  my  sword  into  his 
breast.  He  fell ;  my  joy  was  extreme,  but  it  was 
of  short  duration.  As  I  looked  on  his  dim  eyes, 
and  his  lips  covered  with  the  foam  of  death,  I 
thought  in  spite  of  myself  that  he  had  a  mother 
who,  however  proud  she  might  be  of  having  given 
birth  to  a  brave  man,  must  thenceforth  remain 
lonely  and  desolate,  as  my  mother  would  have 
been  had  her  son  been  killed  instead.  And  this 
man  was  a  Mussulman,  —  that  is,  a  brother  !  Per- 
haps you  are  right,"  added  the  young  man,  turning 
to  the  Jew.  "  War  doubtless  is  noble  ;  but  to  fight 
the  desert,  like  the  calif,  and  force  the  wilderness 
to  give  way  before  fertility  and  abundance,  —  this 
is  great  indeed  !  Happy  they  who  lived  in  the 
days  of  Zobeyde  the  Good  !  " 

"Why  not  imitate  those  you  admire?"  asked 
the  old  man,  in  a  low  tone,  as  if  wishing  to  be 
heard  by  Abdallah  alone. 

"  Explain  yourself,"  said  the  Bedouin ;  "  I  do 
not  understand  you." 

"  Nor  I  either,"  said  the  cripple. 

"  It  is  because  the  eyes  of  youth  are  not  yet 
open,  and  those  of  old  age  are  blinded  by  habit. 
Why  is  this  clump  of  acacias  in  this  spot,  when  all 
around  is  barren?  Why  do  these  sheep  browse 
on  grass  which  is  almost  green  here  when  the 
sands  of  the  desert  have  dominion  everywhere 
else?  Why  do  these  birds  flutter  in  and  out 


THE    WELL  OP  ZOBEYDE.  95 

among  the  sheep,  and  pick  up  the  still  sprouting 
earth  with  their  beaks?  You  see  this  daily,  and 
because  you  see  it  daily  you  do  not  reflect  on  it. 
Men  are  made  thus ;  they  would  admire  the  sun 
did  it  not  return  every  morning." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Abdallah,  thoughtfully,  — 
"  there  is  water  in  this  spot ;  perhaps  one  of  the 
wells  formerly  dug  by  the  calif." 

"  How  can  you  be  certain?  "  asked  Hafiz. 

"You  would  not  ask  the  question,"  returned 
the  Jew,  "  if,  like  me,  you  had  grown  old  on  the 
Talmud.  Hearken  to  the  words  of  one  of  our 
masters,  and  know  that  all  knowledge  is  contained 
in  our  law.  'The  words  of  the  law  before  the 
coming  of  Solomon  were  like  unto  a  well,  whose 
cool  water  lies  far  below  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
so  that  none  can  drink  thereof.  Seeing  this,  the 
wise  man  fastens  one  rope  to  another  and  one 
thread  to  another,  then  draws  and  drinks.  It  was 
thus  that  Solomon  passed  from  allegory  to  allegory, 
and  from  speech  to  speech,  till  he  had  fathomed 
the  words  of  the  law.'  " 

"  Whoever  finds  this  spring  will  find  a  treasure," 
said  the  shepherd.  "  Stay  with  us,  stranger,  and 
we  will  seek  it  together :  you  shall  aid  us  with 
your  science,  and  we  will  share  with  you." 

"  No,"  replied  the  Jew.  "  He  who  weds  Sci- 
ence weds  poverty.  I  have  lived  too  happily  for 
half  a  century  with  Study  to  be  divorced  from  her 
now.  Wealth  is  an  imperious  mistress;  she  re- 


96  ABDALLAH. 

quires  the  whole  heart  and  life  of  man.     Leave 
her  to  the  young." 

The  sun  was  going  down  on  the  horizon.  The 
old  man  dismounted  from  his  camel  and  thanked 
his  two  companions,  whom  he  tenderly  embraced, 
insisting  that  they  should  go  no  farther.  "  Be  not 
concerned  about  me,"  he  said ;  "  he  has  nothing 
to  fear  who  has  poverty  for  his  baggage,  old  age 
for  his  escort,  and  God  for  his  companion."  And 
waving  his  hand  for  the  last  time,  he  resolutely 
plunged  into  the  desert. 


X. 


THE   COPPER   LEAF. 

T  was  not  a  difficult  matter  to  purchase 
the  spot  of  ground  where  the  piercing 
eye  of  the  pilgrim  had  divined  a  spring ; 
a  few  feddans 1  of  half-barren  sand  are 
of  little  value  in  the  desert,  and  twenty  douros 
that  Halima  had  formerly  received  from  Mansour, 
and  had  kept  carefully  in  an  old  vase,  sufficed  to 
crown  Abdallah's  wishes.  Hafiz,  who  was  always 
prudent,  gave  out  that  he  intended  to  build  there 
a  shelter  for  his  flock,  and  immediately  set  to 
work  to  bring  sufficient  boughs  thither  to  conceal 
from  all  eyes  the  mysterious  work  about  to  be 
undertaken. 

Wherever  there  are  women  and  children  there 
are  curiosity  and  gossip.  It  was  soon  a  common 
rumor  among  the  tribe  that  Hafiz  and  his  nephew 
passed  the  nights  in  digging  for  treasure  ;  and 
when,  at  nightfall,  as  the  shepherds  led  their  flocks 
to  water,  they  spied  the  two  friends  covered  with 

1  The  feddan  is  a  little  less  than  our  acre. 
7 


98  ABDALLAH. 

sand,  they  did  not  spare  their  taunts  and  jeers. 
"What  is  that,"  they  asked,  —  "jackals  hiding  in 
their  den,  dervishes  hollowing  out  their  cell,  or 
old  men  building  their  tomb?"  " No,"  was  the 
answer,  "  magicians  digging  a  path  to  the  bottom- 
less pit."  "  Let  them  be  patient,"  cried  others ; 
"  they  will  find  their  way  there  only  too  soon." 
And  the  laughter  and  ridicule  went  on ;  no  bit 
has  yet  been  found  to  curb  the  mouth  of  the 
envious  and  ignorant. 

Abdallah  and  his  uncle  continued  to  dig  with 
ardor  for  more  than  a  month,  with  but  little  pro- 
gress ;  the  sand  caved  in,  and  the  night  destroyed 
the  labor  of  the  day.  Halima  was  the  first  to  lose 
patience.  She  accused  her  brother  of  having 
yielded  too  easily  to  the  folly  of  a  child.  By 
degrees  Hafiz  grew  discouraged,  acknowledged  the 
justice  of  his  sister's  reproaches,  and  abandoned 
the  undertaking.  "  God  has  punished  me  for  my 
weakness,"  said  he.  "  It  was  a  great  mistake  to 
listen  to  the  wretched  impostor  who  amused  him- 
self with  our  credulity.  Could  anything  else  have 
been  expected  from  those  eternal  foes  of  the 
Prophet  and  the  truth?" 

Abdallah,  left  alone,  did  not  suffer  himself  to 
be  cast  down  by  misfortune.  "  God  is  my  wit- 
ness," he  repeated,  "  that  I  am  laboring  for  my 
people,  and  not  for  myself  alone.  If  I  fail,  what 
matters  my  pains?  if  I  succeed,  what  matters  the 
time?"  He  passed  another  whole  month  in 


THE  COPPER  LEAF.  99 

propping  up  the  inside  of  the  well  with  wood,  and 
having  secured  his  work,  began  to  dig  anew. 

On  the  fifteenth  day  of  the  third  month,  Hafiz, 
urged  by  Halima,  determined  to  make  a  last  effort 
with  that  headstrong  nephew  who  continued  to 
cherish  a  foolish  hope  after  his  uncle  had  set  him 
the  example  of  wisdom  and  resignation.  To 
preach  to  Abdallah  was  not  an  easy  task ;  the  well 
was  already  thirty  cubits  deep,  and  the  workman 
was  at  the  bottom.  Hafiz  threw  himself  on  the 
ground,  and  putting  his  mouth  to  the  edge  of  the 
hole,  shouted,  "  You  headstrong  child,  more  stub- 
born than  a  mule,  have  you  sworn  to  bury  your- 
self in  this  accursed  well?  " 

"Since  you  are  there,  uncle,"  answered  Ab- 
dallah, in  a  voice  which  seemed  to  come  from 
the  bottomless  pit,  "will  you  be  kind  enough 
to  draw  up  the  pannier  and  empty  it,  to  save 
time?" 

"  Unhappy  boy,  "  cried  Hafiz,  in  a  tone  more 
of  anger  than  pity,  "  have  you  forgotten  the  les- 
sons which  I  gave  you  in  your  childhood  ?  Have 
you  so  little  respect  for  your  mother  and  me  that 
you  persist  in  afflicting  us  ?  Have  you  forgotten 
the  beautiful  saying  of  the  Koran,  '  Whoso  is  pre- 
served from  the  covetousness  of  his  own  soul,  he 
shall  surely  prosper'?  Do  you  think  —  " 

"  Father  !  father  !  "  cried  Abdallah,  "  I  feel 
moisture ;  the  water  is  coming ;  I  hear  it.  Help  ! 
draw  up  the  pannier,  or  I  am  lost." 


100  ABD  ALLAH. 

Hafiz  sprang  to  the  rope,  and  well  it  was  for 
him  that  he  did  so,  for,  despite  all  his  haste,  he 
brought  up  his  nephew  covered  with  mud,  sense- 
less, and  half  drowned.  The  water  was  rushing 
and  boiling  up  in  the  well.  Abdallah  soon  came 
to  himself,  and  listened  with  delight  to  the  rush- 
ing of  the  water;  his  heart  beat  violently,  and 
Hafiz's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Suddenly  the  noise 
ceased.  Hafiz  lighted  a  handful  of  dry  grass  and 
threw  it  into  the  well,  and,  less  than  ten  paces 
from  the  surface,  he  saw  the  water  smooth  and 
glittering  as  steel.  To  lower  a  jug  and  draw  it  up 
again  was  the  work  of  an  instant.  The  water  was 
sweet.  Abdallah  fell  on  his  knees  and  bowed  his 
head  to  the  earth.  His  uncle  followed  his  ex- 
ample, then  rose,  embraced  his  nephew,  and  en- 
treated his  pardon. 

Within  an  hour,  despite  the  heat  of  the  day, 
the  two  Bedouins  had  fixed  a  windlass  by  the  side 
of  the  spring,  furnished  with  earthen  buckets  and 
turned  by  two  oxen,  and  the  groaning  sakiah 
poured  the  water  upon  the  yellow  grass,  and  re- 
stored to  the  earth  the  freshness  of  spring. 

At  nightfall,  instead  of  going  to  the  watering- 
place,  the  shepherds  stopped  with  their  flocks  at 
the  spring,  and  the  scoffers  of  the  night  before 
glorified  Abdallah.  "We  foresaw  it,"  said  the 
elders.  "  Happy  the  mother  of  such  a  son  ! " 
exclaimed  the  matrons.  "  Happy  the  wife  of 
such  a  brave  and  handsome  youth  !  "  thought  the 


THE  COPPER  LEAP,  IOI 

maidens.  And  all  added,  "  Blessed  be  the  ser- 
vant of  God  and  his  children's  children  !  " 

When  the  tribe  was  assembled  together,  the 
son  of  Yusuf  filled  a  jug  with  water  as  cool  as  that 
of  the  well  of  Zemzem,1  and,  resting  it  on  his  arm, 
offered  it  first  to  his  mother,  and  then  to  each  of 
the  others  in  turn.  He  himself  was  the  last  to 
drink.  As  he  lifted  the  vessel  to  dram  it  to  the 
bottom  he  felt  something  cold  strike  his  lips.  It 
was  a  bit  of  metal  that  had  been  swept  along  by 
the  spring. 

"What  is  this,  my  uncle?"  asked  he  of  Hafiz. 
"Does  copper  thus  lie  hidden  in  the  bowels  of 
the  earth?  " 

"  Oh,  my  son,  preserve  it ;  it  is  the  choicest  of 
treasures,"  cried  the  old  man.  "God  has  sent 
you  the  reward  of  your  courage  and  labor.  Do 
you  not  see  that  it  is  a  shamrock  leaf?  The  earth 
itself  has  opened  to  bring  you  from  its  depths  this 
flower  of  Paradise.  All  that  the  honest  son  of 
Israel  told  us  is  true.  Hope,  my  child,  hope  ! 
Praise  God  the  Only,  the  Incomparable,  and  the 
All-powerful !  He  alone  is  great !  " 

1  A  sacred  well  within  the  walls  of  the  temple  at 
Mecca ;  the  same,  according  to  tradition,  which  gushed 
forth  in  the  desert  at  the  command  of  the  angel  to 
quench  the  thirst  of  Hagar  and  Ishmael. 


XL 


THE   GARDENS   OF   IREM. 

JERDANT  gardens  watered  by  living 
springs,  boughs  laden  with  fruit,  palm- 
trees,  pomegranates,  eternal  shade,  — 
such  is  the  paradise  which  the  Book  of 
Truth  promises  the  faithful.  Abdallah  received  a 
foretaste  of  this  paradise  on  earth.  His  garden 
in  a  few  years  was  the  most  beautiful  spot  imagin- 
able, —  a  shady  and  peaceful  retreat,  the  delight 
of  the  eye  and  the  heart.  White  clematis  twined 
round  the  acacias  and  olive-trees,  hedges  of  myrtle 
surrounded  the  dourah,  barley,  and  melon-beds 
with  perpetual  verdure,  and  the  cool  water,  flow- 
ing through  numerous  trenches,  bathed  the  foot 
of  the  young  orange-trees.  Grapes,  bananas, 
apricots,  and  pomegranates  abounded  in  their 
season,  and  flowers  blossomed  all  the  year  round. 
In  this  happy  abode,  where  sadness  never  came, 
the  rose,  the  jasmine,  the  mint,  the  gray-eyed 
narcissus,  the  wormwood  with  its  azure  blossoms 


THE  GARDENS  OF  IREM.  103 

seemed  to  smile  on  the  passer-by,  and  delighted 
him  with  their  gentle  fragrance  when  his  eye  was 
weary  of  admiring  their  beauty.  What  thicket 
escapes  the  piercing  eye  of  the  bird?  These 
friends  of  the  fruits  and  flowers  hastened  thither 
from  every  quarter  of  the  horizon.  One  would 
have  said  that  they  knew  the  hand  that  fed 
them.  In  the  morning,  when  Abdallah  quitted 
his  tent  to  spread  the  carpet  of  prayer  on  the 
dew-bespangled  grass,  the  sparrows  welcomed  him 
with  joyful  cries,  the  turtle-doves  cooed  more  ten- 
derly than  ever  from  under  the  broad  fig-leaves, 
the  bees  alighted  on  his  head,  and  the  butterflies 
fluttered  around  him ;  flowers,  birds,  humming 
insects,  and  murmuring  waters,  all  things  liv- 
ing, seemed  to  render  him  thanks ;  all  lifted  up 
Abdallah's  soul  toward  him  who  had  given  him 
peace  and  plenty. 

It  was  not  for  himself  that  the  son  of  Yusuf 
had  desired  the  wealth  which  he  shared  with  his 
friends.  He  dug  a  deep  basin  at  the  bottom  of 
the  garden,  into  which  the  water  flowed  and  re- 
mained cool  during  the  summer  droughts.  The 
birds,  fluttering  about  it,  attracted  the  caravans 
from  afar.  "What  water  is  that?"  said  the 
camel-drivers.  "  During  all  the  years  that  we 
have  travelled  over  the  desert  we  have  never  seen 
this  cistern.  Have  we  mistaken  our  road  ?  We 
filled  our  skins  for  seven  days,  and  here  we  find 
water  on  the  third  day's  march.  Are  these  the 


104  ABD  ALLAH. 

gardens  of  Irem *  which  we  are  permitted  to  be- 
hold ?  Has  God  forgiven  the  presumptuous  mon- 
arch who  undertook  to  create  a  paradise  in  the 
midst  of  the  desert?" 

"  No,"  answered  Halima,  "  these  are  not  the 
gardens  of  Irem.  What  you  behold  is  the  work 
of  labor  and  prayer.  God  has  blessed  my  son 
Abdallah."  And  the  well  was  called  the  Well  of 
the  Benediction. 

1  Sheddad,  the  King  of  Ad,  having  heard  of  Paradise 
and  its  delights,  undertook  to  build  a  palace  and  garden 
which  should  rival  it  in  magnificence.  A  terrible  voice 
from  heaven  destroyed  this  monument  of  pride,  or  rather, 
rendered  it  invisible,  for  a  certain  Ibn  Kelabah  pretended 
to  have  seen  it  during  the  reign  of  the  Calif  Moyawiah. 
The  gardens  of  Irem  are  as  celebrated  among  the  Arabs 
as  the  Tower  of  Babel  among  the  Hebrews. 


XII. 


THE   TWO   BROTHERS. 

JHREE  things  are  the  delight  of  the  eye, 
says  the  proverb,  —  running  water, 
verdure,  and  beauty.  Halima  felt 
what  was  lacking  in  this  well-watered 
and  verdant  garden.  Again  and  again  she  re- 
peated to  her  son  that  a  man  should  not  suffer  his 
father's  name  to  perish,  but  Abdallah  turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  her.  He  had  no  thought  of  marriage  ; 
his  mind  was  elsewhere.  He  looked  continually 
at  the  tiny  copper  leaf,  and  continually  asked  him- 
self by  what  deed  of  valor  or  goodness  he  could 
please  God  and  obtain  the  only  boon  that  he  de- 
sired. Man's  heart  has  not  room  for  two  passions 
at  the  same  time. 

One  evening,  when  old  Hafiz  had  visited  his 
sister,  and  was  using  all  his  eloquence  to  persuade 
this  wild  colt  to  submit  to  the  bridle,  a  gun  fired 
at  a  distance  announced  the  arrival  of  a  caravan. 
Abdallah  rose  instantly  to  meet  the  strangers, 
leaving  Halima  in  despair  and  poor  Hafiz  con- 


106  ABD  ALLAH. 

founded.  He  soon  returned,  bringing  with  him  a 
man  still  in  his  youth,  but  already  fat  and  corpu- 
lent. The  stranger  bowed  to  Hafiz  and  Halima, 
gazed  at  them  earnestly,  then,  fixing  his  small  eyes 
on  the  Bedouin,  "  Is  not  this  the  tribe  of  the  Beni 
Amurs,"  he  asked,  "and  am  I  not  in  the  tent  of 
Abdallah,  the  son  of  Yusuf  ?  " 

"  It  is  Abdallah  that  has  the  honor  of  welcom- 
ing you,"  answered  the  young  man ;  "  all  that  is 
here  belongs  to  your  lordship." 

"What!"  cried  the  new-comer,  "have  ten 
years'  absence  so  changed  me  that  I  am  a  stran- 
ger in  this  dwelling  ?  Has  Abdallah  forgotten  his 
brother?  Has  my  mother  but  one  son?  " 

The  meeting  was  a  joyful  one  after  so  long  a 
separation.  Abdallah  embraced  Omar  again  and 
again,  and  Halima  kissed  first  one  and  then  the 
other,  while  Hafiz  whispered  to  himself  that  man 
is  a  wicked  animal.  To  suspect  the  son  of  Man- 
sour  of  ingratitude  was  a  crime,  but  how  often  had 
this  crime  been  committed  by  the  old  shepherd. 

The  repast  finished  and  the  pipes  brought, 
Omar  took  up  the  conversation.  "  How  delighted 
I  am  to  see  you  !  "  said  he,  tenderly  clasping  his 
brother's  hand ;  "  and  the  more  so  that  I  come  to 
do  you  a  service." 

"Speak,  brother!"  said  the  son  of  Yusuf. 
"  Having  nothing  to  hope  or  fear  except  from 
God,  I  know  not  what  service  you  can  render  me ; 
but  danger  often  draws  near  us  without  our  knowl- 


THE    TWO  BROTHERS.  107 

edge,  and  nothing  is  quicker  than  the  eye  of  a 
friend." 

"  It  is  not  danger,  but  fortune  that  is  in  ques- 
tion," returned  the  son  of  Mansour.  "  Behold 
what  brought  me  hither.  I  come  from  Taif, 
whither  I  had  been  summoned  by  the  grand 
sherif.  '  Omar,'  said  he  to  me,  '  I  know  you  to 
be  the  richest  and  most  prudent  merchant  of 
Djiddah ;  you  are  known  throughout  the  desert, 
where  there  is  not  a  tribe  that  does  not  respect 
your  name,  or  is  not  ready,  at  the  sight  of  your 
signet,  to  furnish  camels  to  transport  your  mer- 
chandise, or  brave  men  to  defend  it.  For  this 
reason,  I  have  conceived  a  high  esteem  for  you, 
and  it  is  to  give  you  a  proof  of  it  that  I  have  sum- 
moned you  hither.' 

"  I  bowed  respectfully  and  awaited  the  pleasure 
of  the  sherif,  who  stroked  his  beard  a  long  time 
before  proceeding.  '  The  Pacha  of  Egypt,'  said 
he  at  last,  in  a  hesitating  manner,  '  the  Pacha  of 
Egypt,  who  prizes  my  friendship  as  I  prize  his, 
has  sent  me  a  slave  who  will  be  the  gem  of  my 
harem,  and  whom,  through  respect  for  the  hand 
that  chose  her,  I  can  receive  only  as  a  wife.  The 
pacha  does  me  an  honor  which  I  accept  with 
gratitude,  though  I  am  old,  and  at  my  age,  having 
already  a  wife  whom  I  love,  it  would  have  been 
wiser  not  to  risk  the  peace  of  my  household.  But 
this  slave  has  not  yet  arrived,  and  it  is  to  conduct 
her  hither  that  I  need  your  prudence  and  skill. 


108  ABD  ALLAH. 

She  cannot  land  in  Djiddah,  which  is  under  Tur- 
kish rule,  and  must  therefore  go  to  Yambo,  in  my 
dominions.  The  way  is  long  from  Yambo  to  Taif, 
and  the  wandering  hordes  and  haughty  tribes  of 
the  desert  do  not  always  respect  my  name.  It 
does  not  suit  me  to  make  war  on  them  at  present, 
neither  is  it  fitting  that  I  should  expose  myself  to 
insult.  I  am  in  need,  therefore,  of  a  wise  and 
sagacious  man  to  go  to  Yambo  for  me  as  if  on  his 
own  behalf.  You  can  easily  make  the  journey, 
and  no  one  will  be  surprised  at  it.  What  is  more 
natural  than  that  you  should  go  to  meet  a  valuable 
cargo,  and  who  would  attack  you,  a  simple  mer- 
chant, in  a  country  where  you  have  so  many 
friends  and  resources?' 

"  Thus  spoke  the  sherif.  I  sought  to  decline 
the  dangerous  favor,  but  was  met  with  a  terrible 
look.  The  displeasure  of  a  prince  is  like  the  roar 
of  a  lion ;  to  incense  him  is  to  rush  into  his  jaws. 
I  resigned  myself  to  what  I  could  not  help. 
'  Commander  of  the  Faithful,'  I  replied,  '  it  is 
true  that  God  has  blessed  my  efforts,  and  that  I 
have  a  few  friends  in  the  desert.  It  is  for  thee  to 
command ;  speak,  and  I  obey.'  " 

"  That  is  well,"  said  Abdallah ;  "  there  is  peril 
to  brave  and  glory  to  win." 

"  It  is  for  this  reason  that  I  have  come  to  thee," 
resumed  the  son  of  Mansour.  "  With  whom  should 
I  share  this  noble  enterprise  if  not  with  thee,  my 
brother,  the  bravest  of  the  brave  ;  if  not  with  the 


THE    TWO  BROTHERS.  109 

wise  and  prudent  Hafiz ;  if  not  with  the  bold 
comrades?  The  Bedouins  on  the  road  have 
never  seen  me  —  they  only  know  my  name  ;  and, 
besides,  instead  of  defending  my  caravan,  they 
might  plunder  it,  as  they  have  done  more  than 
once ;  but  if  thou  art  there  with  thy  followers, 
they  will  think  twice  before  attacking  it.  To 
thee,  therefore,  it  belongs  to  conduct  the  affair,  — 
to  thee  will  revert  all  the  honor  thereof.  Thou 
seest  that  I  speak  with  perfect  frankness.  As  for 
me,  I  am  only  a  merchant ;  thou  art  a  man  of 
thought  and  action.  It  is  said  in  the  desert  that 
I  am  rich  and  fond  of  money,  —  a  reputation  which 
is  a  peril  rather  than  an  aid ;  thou,  on  the  con- 
trary, art  respected  and  dreaded.  The  name  of 
the  son  of  Yusuf  is  a  power;  his  presence  is 
worth  an  army.  Without  thee  I  can  do  nothing ; 
with  thee  I  am  sure  of  succeeding  in  an  adventure 
in  which  my  head  is  at  stake.  Am  I  wrong  in 
relying  on  thee?" 

"  No,"  said  Abdallah ;  "  we  are  links  of  one 
chain ;  woe  to  him  who  breaks  it !  We  will  set 
out  to-morrow,  and,  happen  what  may,  thou  shalt 
find  me  by  thy  side.  A  brother  is  born  for  evil 
days." 


XIII. 

THE   CARAVAN. 

JHE  same  evening  everything  was  in 
readiness  for  departure,  —  the  skin 
filled,  the  provisions  prepared,  the 
bundles  of  hay  counted,  and  the  har- 
ness examined.  Abdallah  chose  the  surest  camels 
and  the  most  experienced  drivers.  Nor  was  this 
all :  he  engaged  twelve  young  men,  brave  com- 
panions of  tried  courage  who  laughed  at  fatigue 
and  war.  Who  would  not  have  been  proud  of 
following  the  son  of  Yusuf  ?  His  glance  com- 
manded respect,  his  words  went  to  the  heart. 
With  sabre  always  drawn  and  hand  always  open, 
he  was  the  boldest  of  leaders  and  the  tenderest  of 
friends.  Beside  him  men  were  as  tranquil  as  the 
hawk  in  the  cloud,  or  death  in  the  tomb.  On  his 
part,  Hafiz  passed  a  sleepless  night.  To  clean 
the  guns,  try  the  powder,  run  the  bullets,  and 
sharpen  the  sabres  and  daggers,  was  work  to  his 
taste,  a  pleasure  that  he  yielded  to  no  one. 


THE   CARAVAN.  Ill 

As  soon  as  the  stars  began  to  pale,  the  caravan 
set  out  on  its  way,  with  Abdallah  at  the  head  by 
the  side  of  Omar,  and  Hafiz  in  the  rear,  watching 
everything,  and  throwing  out  timely  words  of 
fault-finding  or  praise.  The  camels  walked  slowly 
in  single  file,  accompanied  by  their  leaders  chant- 
ing the  songs  of  the  desert.  In  the  midst  of  the 
band  proudly  marched  a  magnificent  dromedary, 
with  a  slender  head,  of  the  Oman  breed,  covered 
with  gold,  silver,  and  shining  plumes,  and  bearing 
a  litter  hung  with  velvet  and  brocade,  —  the  equi- 
page of  the  new  favorite.  The  silver-pommelled 
saddles,  Damascus  blades,  and  black  burnoose  em- 
broidered with  gold,  of  twelve  riders  mounted  on 
fine  horses,  glittered  in  the  first  beams  of  the  sun. 
Next  came  Abdallah's  mare,  led  by  a  servant. 
Nothing  could  be  imagined  more  beautiful  than 
this  mare,  the  glory  of  the  tribe,  and  the  despair 
and  envy  of  all  the  Bedouins.  She  was  called 
Hamama,  the  Dove,  because  she  was  as  snowy, 
gentle,  and  fleet  as  this  queen  of  the  forests. 

Abdallah,  dressed  like  a  simple  camel-driver, 
and  armed  with  a  long  iron-headed  staff,  walked 
on  foot  by  the  side  of  Omar,  who  was  seated 
tranquilly  on  his  mule.  They  were  among  friends, 
and  had  nothing  to  fear,  so  that  the  brothers  could 
talk  at  length  of  the  past.  When  the  sun  darted 
its  vertical  rays  on  their  heads,  and  the  scorching 
air  enervated  man  and  beast,  the  son  of  Yusuf 
took  his  place  by  the  side  of  the  first  camel-driver, 


112  ABD  ALLAH. 

and  in  a  grave  and  solemn  voice  chanted  one  of 
those  hymns  of  the  desert  which  beguile  the  lonely 
way,  to  the  praise  of  God. 

God  alone  is  great ! 
Who  maketh  the  earth  to  tremble  ? 
Who  launcheth  the  thunderbolt  through  the  burning  air  ? 
Who  giveth  the  sands  to  the  fury  of  the  simoom  ? 
Who  causeth  the  torrent  to  gush  forth  from  its  arid  bed  ? 
His  name  ?  hearest  thou  it  not  in  the  whirlwind  ? 

God  alone  is  great ! 

God  alone  is  great ! 

Who  calleth  the  storm  from  the  depths  of  the  sea? 
Who  causeth  the  rain  and  clouds  to  give  way  before  the  sun  ? 
Who  forceth  the  hungry  wave  to  lick  the  strand  ? 
His  name  ?  the  wind  murmureth  it  in  its  flight  to  the  dying 
wave : 

God  alone  is  great ! 

Oh,  the  power  of  the  divine  name  !  At  the 
sound  of  these  praises  the  very  brutes  forgot  their 
fatigue  and  marched  with  a  firm  tread ;  the  camel- 
drivers  raised  their  heads ;  all  refreshed  themselves 
with  these  words  as  a  running  brook.  It  is  the 
strength  of  the  soul  that  gives  energy  to  the  body, 
and  for  the  soul  there  is  no  strength  but  in  God. 

Thus  passed  the  first  day.  The  next  day  some 
precautions  were  taken ;  Hafiz  went  in  advance 
as  a  scout ;  they  set  out  as  soon  as  the  moon  had 
risen,  marched  in  silence,  and  stopped  earlier 
than  the  day  before,  but  saw  no  one.  The  suc- 
ceeding days  also  passed  quietly,  and  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  nine  days'  march  they  saw  at  last  the 
walls  and  towers  of  Yambo. 


XIV. 
CAFOUR. 

jjHE  caravan  made  a  short  stay  in  the 
city ;  the  brig  that  brought  the  slave 
had  arrived  the  night  before,  and 
Omar  was  in  haste  to  return  in  peace 
to  Djiddah.  The  camels  rested ;  they  took  the 
way  to  the  desert. 

They  received  the  sultana  at  the  water's  edge. 
A  flat-boat  put  off  from  the  ship  with  two  women 
wrapped  in  habarahs,  or  large  mantles  of  black 
taffeta,  and  their  faces  shrouded,  all  but  the  eyes, 
in  bourkos,  or  white  muslin  veils  that  fell  to  the 
feet.  Omar  received  the  strangers  with  a  re- 
spectful bow,  and  led  them  to  the  equipage  that 
awaited  them.  The  dromedary  knelt  down  at 
the  voice  of  Abdallah.  One  of  the  women  slowly 
mounted  the  palanquin  and  seated  herself,  grace- 
fully drawing  the  folds  of  her  robe  about  her ;  the 
other  approached  with  equal  gravity,  but  sud- 
denly snatching  off  her  mantle  and  veil,  she  threw 
them  over  Omar's  head,  twisting  the  muslin  around 
8 


114  ABD  ALLAH. 

his  face,  and  almost  smothering  him ;  then,  put- 
ting one  foot  on  the  camel's  neck,  she  leaped 
on  his  back  like  a  cat,  grimacing  like  an  ape 
at  the  astonished  Bedouins,  and  shouting  with 
laughter. 

"Cafour,  you  shall  be  whipped,"  cried  the 
veiled  lady,  who  had  much  ado  to  preserve  her 
gravity  ;  but  Cafour  did  not  believe  her  mistress's 
threats,  and  continued  to  laugh  and  grimace  at 
Omar  as  soon  as  his  head  emerged  from  the  cov- 
erings. The  son  of  Mansour  at  last  threw  off  the 
heap  of  silk  under  which  he  had  been  buried,  and 
raised  his  head  angrily  toward  the  creature  that 
had  insulted  him  ;  but  what  was  his  astonishment 
to  see  a  smile  on  the  faces  of  the  grave  Bedouins 
and  Abdallah  himself.  All  shrugged  their  shoul- 
ders as  they  pointed  to  his  enemy.  He  looked, 
and  saw  a  little  negro  girl  of  surpassing  ugliness. 
A  round  flat  face,  with  small  eyes,  the  whites  of 
which  were  scarcely  visible,  a  flat  nose  sunken 
below  the  cheeks,  wide  nostrils  from  which  hung 
a  silver  ring  that  fell  below  the  mouth,  enormous 
lips,  teeth  as  white  as  those  of  a  young  dog,  and 
a  chin  tattooed  blue,  —  such  was  the  charming  face 
of  the  damsel.  To  add  to  her  ugliness,  she  was 
loaded  with  jewels  like  an  idol.  On  the  crown  of 
her  head  was  a  plume  of  parrot's  feathers.  The 
thick  wool  that  covered  her  head  was  parted  in 
little  tresses  ornamented  with  sequins ;  her  ears 
were  pierced  like  a  sieve,  and  hung  with  rings  of 


CAP  OUR.  115 

every  shape  and  size ;  a  broad  necklace  of  blue 
enamel  encircled  her  neck,  and  her  arm  was  cov- 
ered from  the  wrist  to  the  elbow  with  seven  or 
eight  bracelets  of  coral,  amber,  and  filigree  work ; 
lastly,  she  wore  on  each  ankle  a  prodigious  sil- 
ver band.  Such  was  Cafour,  the  delight  of  her 
mistress,  the  beautiful  Leila. 

Full  license  is  given  fools,  the  favorites  of  God, 
whose  soul  is  in  heaven  while  their  body  drags  on 
the  earth.  The  whole  caravan,  therefore,  except 
Omar,  who  still  bore  her  a  grudge,  took  a  liking 
to  the  poor  negress.  It  was  but  too  evident  that 
she  had  not  her  reason ;  she  talked  and  laughed 
continually;  her  tongue  spared  nobody,  and  her 
judgments  were  insane.  For  instance,  she  gazed 
long  at  the  son  of  Mansour,  who,  half  reclining  on 
his  mule,  marched  by  the  side  of  the  litter,  sur- 
rounded by  his  slaves,  slowly  smoking  Persian 
tobacco  in  his  jasmine  pipe.  One  of  the  servants 
having  filled  the  pipe  too  full,  he  dealt  him  a  box 
on  the  ear.  "  Mistress,"  cried  Cafour,  "  do  you 
see  that  old  man  buried  in  a  cushion,  with  his 
feet  in  slippers  ?  He  is  a  Jew,  mistress ;  beware 
of  him ;  he  would  beat  us  for  a  douro,  and  sell 
us  for  a  sequin."  Leila  laughed,  while  Omar  flew 
into  a  passion  and  threatened  the  negress.  To 
style  a  man  who  counted  his  piastres  by  millions 
an  old  man  and  a  Jew  was  indeed  the  act  of  an 
idiot.  What  person  in  his  right  mind  would  have 
dared  to  talk  thus?  It  was  soon  the  turn  of 


Il6  ABD  ALLAH. 

Abdallah,  who  was  reviewing  the  caravan.  He 
had  put  on  his  war-dress,  and  every  one  admired 
the  grace  of  the  young  chief.  His  white  burnoose 
floated  in  long  folds ;  his  Damascus  pistols  and 
silver-hilted  cangiar  glittered  in  his  belt ;  and  a 
red  and  yellow  silk  turban  overshadowed  his  eyes, 
and  added  to  the  fierceness  of  his  glance.  How 
beautiful  he  was  !  All  hearts  went  out  toward 
him,  and  his  very  mare  seemed  proud  of  carrying 
such  a  master.  Hamama  tossed  her  serpentine 
head  and  reed-like  ears ;  her  dilated  nostrils 
breathed  forth  fire ;  on  seeing  her  start,  vault, 
stop  short,  and  bound  forward,  it  seemed  as  if 
she  and  her  rider  were  but  one.  As  the  son  of 
Yusuf  paused  near  the  litter,  a  camel-driver  could 
not  help  saying  to  Cafour,  "  Look,  child  ;  do  you 
see  such  beauty  among  your  coarse  Egyptians  or 
in  your  Maghreb?" 

"  Look,  mistress,"  cried  the  negress,  leaning 
over  the  camel's  neck ;  "  see  these  fine  clothes, 
elegant  air,  tapering  fingers,  and  cast-down  eyes  ! 
Pretty  bird,  why  don't  you  look  at  us?"  said  she 
to  Abdallah.  "  Oh,  I  know ;  it  is  a  woman  in 
disguise,  —  the  virgin  of  the  tribe.  Driver,  tell 
him  to  come  up  here  ;  he  belongs  here  with  us." 

"  Silence,  infidel  !  "  exclaimed  Abdallah,  losing 
his  patience.  "  Must  you  have  a  ring  through 
your  lips  to  stop  your  serpent's  tongue  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  woman,"  said  Cafour,  laughing  loudly  ; 
"  a  man  does  not  avenge  himself  by  insults. 


C A  FOUR.  117 

Come,  women  are  made  to  love  each  other.  You 
are  handsome,  and  so  am  I,  but  my  mistress  is 
the  handsomest  of  the  three.  Look  !  " 

The  eye  is  quicker  than  the  thought.  Abdallah 
raised  his  eyes  to  the  litter.  Cafour  playfully  laid 
hold  of  her  mistress's  veil;  the  frightened  Leila 
drew  back  ;  the  string  broke  ;  and  the  bourko  fell. 
Leila  uttered  a  cry  and  covered  her  face  with  one 
hand,  while  with  the  other  she  boxed  the  ears  of 
the  negress,  who  began  to  cry.  The  whole  passed 
like  a  flash  of  lightning. 

"  How  beautiful  she  is  !  "  thought  the  son  of 
Mansour.  "  I  must  have  her." 

"  Glory  to  Him  who  created  her,  and  created 
her  so  perfect !  "  murmured  the  son  of  Yusuf. 

Who  can  tell  the  pain  and  pleasure  that  a 
moment  can  contain?  Who  can  tell  how  this 
fleeting  vision  entered  and  filled  Abdallah's  soul  ? 
The  caravan  went  on,  but  the  Bedouin  remained 
motionless.  Leila  had  hidden  herself  in  her  veil, 
yet  a  woman  stood  smiling  before  the  son  of  Yusuf. 
He  closed  his  eyes,  yet,  despite  himself,  he  saw  a 
brow  as  white  as  ivory,  cheeks  as  blooming  as  the 
tulip,  and  tresses  blacker  than  ebony  falling  on  a 
gazelle-like  neck,  like  the  date  branch  laden  with 
golden  fruit.  A  pair  of  lips  like  a  thread  of  scar- 
let parted  to  call  him ;  a  pair  of  large  eyes  gazed 
at  him,  —  eyes  surrounded  with  a  bluish  ring,  and 
sparkling  with  a  lustre  softer  than  that  of  the  violet 
moist  with  dew.  Abdallah  felt  his  heart  escaping 


Il8  ABD  ALLAH. 

him ;  he  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  burst 
into  tears. 

The  caravan  continued  its  march ;  and  old 
Hafiz,  who  brought  up  the  rear,  soon  found  him- 
self by  the  side  of  his  nephew.  Astonished  at 
the  silence  and  inaction  of  the  young  chief,  he 
approached  him,  and  touching  his  arm,  "  Some- 
thing new  has  happened,  has  there  not?"  he 
asked. 

Abdallah  started,  and  recovering  himself  like 
a  man  aroused  from  a  dream,  "  Yes,  my  father," 
he  answered  in  a  dejected  tone. 

"  The  enemy  is  at  hand  ! "  cried  Hafiz,  with 
sparkling  eyes ;  "  you  have  seen  him !  Glory 
to  God,  our  guns  are  about  to  speak  ! " 

"  No  one  threatens  us ;  the  danger  is  not 
there." 

"What  is  the  matter,  then,  my  son?"  said 
the  old  man,  anxiously.  "  Are  you  sick  ?  Have 
you  a  fever?  You  know  that  I  am  skilled  in  the 
art  of  healing." 

"  That  is  not  it ;  at  our  first  halt  I  will  tell  you 
all." 

"  You  frighten  me,"  said  Hafiz ;  "  if  it  is  neither 
danger  nor  sickness  that  disturbs  you,  some  evil 
passion  must  be  troubling  your  soul !  Take  care, 
my  son  !  With  God's  aid  the  foe  is  defeated,  and 
with  God's  aid  sickness  is  cured ;  there  is  but  one 
enemy  against  which  there  is  no  defence,  and 
that  enemy  is  our  own  heart." 


XV. 

THE    SULTAN   OF   CANDAHAR. 

JJHEN  the  caravan  halted,  Abdallah  took 
his  uncle  aside.  Hafiz  seated  himself 
on  his  carpet  and  began  to  smoke, 
without  uttering  a  word.  The  young 
chief,  wrapped  in  his  cloak,  stretched  himself  on 
the  ground,  and  long  remained  motionless.  Sud- 
denly he  started  up,  and  kissing  the  old  man's 
hand,  "  My  uncle,"  said  he,  "  I  implore  the  pro- 
tection of  God.  What  God  wills  must  come ; 
there  is  no  strength  nor  power  but  in  him." 
And  in  an  agitated  voice,  he  related  the  vision 
which  had  troubled  him. 

"  Oh,  my  son,"  said  the  shepherd,  with  a  sigh, 
"  thou  art  punished  for  not  hearkening  to  our 
words.  Happy  is  he  who  chooses  a  virtuous  and 
obedient  wife  from  among  his  tribe,  with  the  sole 
desire  of  perpetuating  the  name  of  his  father ! 
Woe  to  him  who  suffers  his  soul  to  be  taken  in 
the  snares  of  a  strange  woman  !  Can  anything 
good  come  out  of  Egypt?  All  the  women  there, 


120  ABD  ALLAH. 

since  Joseph's  time,  have  been  dissolute  and 
treacherous,  —  worthy  daughters  of  Zuleika  !  "  1 

"Treachery  had  naught  to  do  with  it,  my 
uncle  ;  it  was  wholly  the  work  of  chance." 

"  Do  not  believe  it,  my  nephew ;  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  chance  with  these  cunning  fishers 
for  men's  hearts,  who  spread  their  nets  every- 
where." 

"  She  loves  me,  then  ! "  exclaimed  the  youth, 
starting  up ;  "  but  no,  my  uncle,  you  are  mistaken. 
In  two  days  we  shall  be  at  Taif ;  in  two  days  we 
shall  be  separated  forever,  yet  I  feel  that  I  shall 
always  love  her  !  " 

"  Yes,  you  will  love  her,  but  she  will  forget  you 
for  the  first  jewel  from  the  hand  of  her  new  mas- 
ter. Your  heart  serves  her  as  a  plaything ;  when 
the  whim  of  the  moment  has  passed,  she  will 
break  it  without  remorse.  Have  you  forgotten 
what  the  Koran  says  of  that  imperfect  and  ca- 
pricious being  who  is  brought  up  among  orna- 
ments and  jewels?  'The  reason  of  women  is 
folly,  and  their  religion  love.  Like  the  flowers, 
they  are  the  delight  of  the  eyes  and  the  joy  of  the 
senses,  but  they  are  poisoned  blossoms.  Woe  to 
him  who  draws  near  them  !  he  will  soon  have  a 
winding-sheet  for  his  raiment ! '  Believe  in  my  ex- 
perience ;  I  have  seen  more  families  destroyed  by 
women  than  by  war.  The  more  generous  a  man 
is,  the  greater  is  his  danger.  Do  you  not  know 
1  The  name  given  by  the  Arabs  to  Potiphar's  wife. 


THE  SULTAN  OP  CANDAHAR.  121 

the  story  of  the  Sultan  of  Candahar,  who  was  a 
true  believer,  though  he  lived  in  the  days  of  igno- 
rance before  the  coming  of  Mohammed,  and  a 
sage,  though  he  sat  on  a  throne?  He  undertook 
to  gather  together  all  the  maxims  of  human  pru- 
dence, in  order  to  leave  to  his  children  an  in- 
heritance worthy  of  him.  With  this  end,  the 
philosophers  of  the  Indies  had  written  a  library, 
which  the  sultan  took  with  him  everywhere,  and 
which  ten  camels  scares  sufficed  to  carry.  '  Re- 
duce all  this  science  to  first  principles,'  said  he. 
It  was  done,  and  but  a  camel's  load  remained. 
This  was  still  too  much.  A  number  of  aged 
Brahmins,  chosen  by  the  king,  reduced  this 
abridgment  of  long  experience  first  to  ten  vol- 
umes, then  to  five,  and  then  to  a  single  one, 
which  was  offered  to  the  sultan  in  a  box  of  velvet 
and  gold.  The  prince  had  reigned  long,  and  life 
had  few  secrets  from  him.  He  took  the  book, 
and  began  to  blot  out  all  that  was  self-evident 
and  therefore  unnecessary.  *  What  is  the  danger 
that  threatens  my  sons  ? '  thought  he.  '  Not 
avarice,  for  that  is  the  malady  of  the  old ;  nor 
ambition,  for  that  is  the  virtue  of  princes.  I  will 
strike  out  all  this.'  But  at  last  he  came  to  a 
more  violent  passion.  He  was  so  forcibly  struck 
by  the  truth  of  an  adage  that  he  threw  the  book 
into  the  fire,  and  bequeathed  this  maxim  alone  to 
his  children,  calling  it  the  key  to  the  treasure  of 
life  :  '  All  women  are  false,  —  above  all,  the  one 


122  ABD  ALLAH. 

that  loves  thee  i '  Such  was  the  adage.  Wouldst 
them,  my  son,  be  more  prudent  than  this  infidel, 
more  enlightened  than  Solomon,  or  wiser  than 
the  Prophet  ?  No ;  believe  me,  the  beauty  of 
woman  is  like  the  scabbard  of  the  sabre,  —  a  glit- 
tering covering  that  hides  death.  Do  not  go  to 
meet  thy  destruction.  Think  of  God,  preserve 
thyself  for  thy  old  and  true  friends,  and  if  more 
is  needed  to  move  thee,  have  pity  on  thy  mother 
and  old  Hafiz." 

"  Thou  art  right,"  said  Abdallah,  sadly,  as  he 
stretched  himself  on  the  ground,  with  his  burnoose 
for  a  pillow.  For  the  first  time  he  did  not  be- 
lieve his  uncle's  words ;  for  the  first  time,  too, 
the  four-leaved  shamrock  was  forgotten. 


XVI. 

THE  ATTACK. 

jjIGHT  is  an  antidote  to  fatigue  and  a 
poison  to  sorrow.  The  son  of  Yusuf 
rose  with  a  mind  more  diseased  than 
the  night  before.  Struck  with  incur- 
able madness,  he  no  longer  felt  himself  the  master 
of  his  will  or  his  movements ;  it  was  the  delirium 
of  fever,  the  dejection  of  despair.  Despite  him- 
self, the  fatal  litter  attracted  him ;  he  hastened  to 
it,  then  turned  and  fled,  pursued  by  those  terrible 
yet  charming  eyes.  If  he  saw  from  afar  a  horse- 
man approaching  the  palanquin  ;  if  the  son  of  Man- 
sour  turned  toward  the  two  women,  —  he  spurred 
on  his  horse  as  if  about  to  attack  an  enemy,  then 
suddenly  paused,  daring  neither  to  draw  back  nor 
advance.  The  whole  morning  he  tortured  his 
horse.  Panting  and  covered  with  foam,  Hamama 
bounded  forward  under  the  spur  which  tore  her 
sides,  astonished  at  not  understanding  her  mas- 
ter and  sharing  his  madness. 


1 24  ABD ALLAH. 

The  shepherd  cast  withering  glances  toward 
the  litter.  Leila  had  thrown  herself  back  in  the 
corner,  and  covered  her  head  with  her  veil,  and 
no  one  was  to  be  seen  but  Cafour,  spiritless  and 
mute  as  a  wet  bird.  More  tranquil  in  this  re- 
spect, Hafiz  turned  to  look  for  his  nephew,  and 
saw  him  wandering  at  random  in  the  desert. 
Everything  around  him  betrayed  a  diseased  mind. 
Hafiz  spurred  his  horse  toward  Abdallah.  "  Cheer 
up,  my  nephew  !  "  he  cried.  "  Courage  !  We 
are  men  in  order  to  suffer ;  we  are  Mussulmen  in 
order  to  submit  to  fate.  " 

"  I  am  stifling,"  answered  the  youth ;  "  I  am 
conquered  by  the  malady  that  is  preying  upon 
me.  Anything,  anything,  my  uncle,  rather  than 
what  I  suffer  !  Let  danger  come ;  let  the  enemy 
draw  near  !  I  wish  to  fight  and  to  die  !  " 

"  Mad  wishes  and  guilty  words,"  replied  the 
old  man,  sternly.  "  God  is  the  master  of  life  and 
death.  Beware  lest  he  grant  thy  prayer;  it  is 
sufficient  punishment  that  God  should  give  us 
what  we  ask  him  in  our  folly.  What  is  that?" 
he  added,  leaping  from  his  horse,  and  carefully 
examining  the  ground.  "  These  are  the  prints  of 
horses'  feet;  there  are  no  camels  among  them. 
An  armed  band  has  passed  this  way.  The  marks 
are  fresh ;  the  enemy  is  not  far  off.  Do  you  not 
feel  that  your  passion  is  destroying  us  ?  You,  our 
leader,  have  noticed  nothing ;  you  are  leading  us 
to  death." 


THE  ATTACK.  125 

The  two  companions  looked  about  them,  but 
saw  nothing  but  the  desert.  They  were  passing 
through  a  desolate  country.  The  road  wound 
among  prodigious  blocks  of  reddish  granite, 
strewed  over  the  sands  like  crumbling  ruins. 
The  earth  was  full  of  gaping  crevices,  the  beds 
of  dried-up  torrents  and  deep  caves,  —  graves 
opened  for  the  traveller.  There  was  not  a  bird 
in  the  air,  not  a  gazelle  in  the  distance,  not  a 
black  speck  in  the  horizon ;  with  a  steel-like  sky 
above  their  heads,  and  the  silence  of  death  around 
them,  attacked  there,  their  only  hope  was  in  their 
sabres  and  God. 

Hafiz  ran  to  the  head  of  the  caravan.  Each 
one  fell  in  line  and  was  as  silent  as  in  a  night- 
march  ;  naught  was  to  be  heard  but  the  crackling 
of  the  sand  under  the  feet  of  the  camels.  After 
an  hour's  march  —  an  hour  which  seemed  inter- 
minable—  they  reached  a  hill  which  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  turn.  Hafiz  went  in  advance ;  he 
ascended  the  hill,  and  leaving  his  horse  halfway 
from  the  top,  crept  on  his  belly  among  the  rocks. 
After  gazing  long,  he  noiselessly  descended,  put 
his  horse  to  the  gallop,  and  reached  Abdallah's 
side,  his  face  as  calm  as  at  his  departure.  "  There 
are  white  tents  in  the  distance,"  said  he.  "They 
are  not  Bedouins,  but  Arnauts  from  Djiddah. 
They  are  numerous,  and  are  awaiting  us ;  we 
have  been  betrayed.  No  matter;  we  will  sell 
our  skin  more  dearly  than  they  will  care  to  buy 


126  ABDALLAH. 

it.  Forward,  my  son,  and  do  your  duty  !  "  And 
calling  six  of  the  bravest  of  the  company,  Hafiz 
loaded  his  gun  and  again  took  the  way  to  the 
height. 

Abdallah  had  just  reached  the  head  of  the 
column  when  a  white  smoke  appeared  from  a 
rock,  a  bullet  whizzed  through  the  air,  and  a 
camel  fell.  Great  confusion  instantly  prevailed 
in  the  caravan ;  the  camels  fell  back,  rushing 
against  and  overthrowing  each  other ;  the  drivers 
fled  to  the  rear,  and  the  horsemen  rushed  to  the 
front.  It  seemed  like  a  forest  shaken  by  the 
wind.  The  moans  of  the  camels  and  neighing  of 
the  horses  mingled  with  the  shouts  of  the  men. 
In  the  disorder  a  handful  of  robbers,  whose  red 
vests,  white  drawers,  and  broad  girdles  easily 
showed  them  to  be  Arnauts,  fell  upon  the  litter 
and  hurried  it  away  with  shouts  of  joy.  It  was 
in  vain  that  Abdallah  and  his  friends  attempted 
to  charge  on  them ;  the  sharp-shooters  in  am- 
bush felled  them  on  the  way.  Thrice  Abdallah 
spurred  his  horse  against  his  invisible  foe ;  thrice 
he  was  forced  to  return,  his  comrades  falling 
around  him. 

Abdallah  trembled  with  rage  ;  by  his  side,  and 
not  less  excited,  was  Omar,  rending  his  clothes,  — 
Omar,  whose  passion  made  him  forget  all  pru- 
dence, and  who  thought  of  nothing  but  the  treas- 
ure that  was  snatched  from  him.  "  Forward,  my 
brother  !  "  he  cried.  Both  were  reining  up  their 


THE  ATTACK.  I2J 

horses  for  a  last  effort,  when  several  musket- shots 
followed  each  other  rapidly.  The  Arnauts  had 
forgotten  old  Hafiz,  who  suddenly  came  upon 
them  from  above,  and  shot  them  down  without 
pity. 

The  road  clear,  the  brothers  rushed  forward, 
followed  by  Hafiz.  "  Gently,  my  son  !  "  cried  he  to 
Abdallah.  "  Spare  your  horse  ;  we  have  time." 

"  Where  is  Leila,  my  uncle  ?  They  are  carry- 
ing her  off;  she  is  lost." 

"Old  fool,"  said  Omar,  "  do  you  think  that 
these  robbers  will  wait  for  us?  Twenty  douros 
to  him  who  brings  down  the  dromedary  !  " 

One  of  the  Bedouins  raised  his  gun,  and  taking 
aim,  fired,  at  the  risk  of  killing  the  two  women. 
The  shot  struck  the  shoulder  of  the  animal,  which 
fell  with  his  precious  burden. 

"  Well  done,  young  man,"  said  Hafiz,  sarcasti- 
cally, to  the  Bedouin.  "  The  Arnauts  will  thank 
you ;  you  have  rid  them  of  the  only  obstacle  to 
their  flight.  Now  the  sultana  is  lost." 

Hafiz  had  judged  but  too  rightly.  The  robbers 
surrounded  the  litter  and  tore  from  it  a  woman 
wrapped  in  a  mantle,  in  whom  Abdallah  recog- 
nized Leila ;  then,  by  the  command  of  a  magnifi- 
cently dressed  chief,  a  man  took  her  behind  him 
and  set  off  at  full  gallop.  At  this  sight  the  son 
of  Yusuf  darted  upon  the  enemy  like  an  eagle 
from  the  clouds.  "  Dog  !  son  of  a  dog  !  "  he 
cried,  "  show  your  face,  if  you  are  a  man  !  Is  it 


128  ABDALLAH. 

to  fly  the  better  that  you  have  so  fine  a  horse? " 
And  he  fired  his  pistol  at  him. 

"  Wait,  son  of  a  Jew  !  "  said  the  captain,  turn- 
ing round ;  "  my  sabre  is  thirsting  for  your  blood." 

"  Forward,  children  of  powder !  "  cried  old 
Hafiz.  "  Charge,  my  sons !  death  before  dis- 
grace !  Charge  !  Bullets  do  not  kill.  What  is 
to  be,  will  be,  according  to  God's  will." 

Abdallah  and  the  Arnaut  rushed  upon  each 
other  at  full  speed.  The  captain  advanced  with 
a  pistol  in  one  hand  and  a  sword  in  the  other. 
Abdallah  had  nothing  but  a  dagger,  which  he  held 
in  his  hand  as  he  leaned  forward,  almost  con- 
cealed by  the  mare's  neck.  The  Arnaut  fired  and 
missed.  The  horses  met  with  a  violent  shock,  and 
the  riders  engaged  hand  to  hand.  But  Abdallah 
had  the  strength  and  rage  of  a  lion ;  he  seized  his 
rival  round  the  waist,  shook  him  with  a  terrible 
grasp,  and  plunged  his  dagger  into  his  breast. 
The  blood  spouted  forth  like  wine  from  a  pierced 
skin,  and  the  Arnaut  bounded  up  and  reeled  in 
his  saddle.  Abdallah  snatched  him  from  his 
horse  and  threw  him  on  the  ground  as  if  to 
trample  on  him.  "  There  is  one  that  will  drink 
no  more,"  said  Hafiz,  leaping  on  the  body  to 
despoil  it. 

The  fall  of  the  captain,  the  swords  of  the 
Bedouins,  who  fell  on  the  enemy  like  bees  robbed 
of  their  honey,  and  the  cries  of  the  camel-drivers, 
who  rushed  thither  with  their  guns,  soon  decided 


THE  ATTACK.  I2Q 

the  day.  The  Arnaut  troop  disappeared  amid  dust 
and  smoke,  the  bravest  remaining  in  the  rear  and 
firing  their  pistols  to  protect  a  retreat  which  it 
was  not  dared  to  molest.  The  victory  was  dearly 
bought ;  more  than  one  was  wounded. 

"  Well,  my  brother,"  said  Omar,  with  flashing 
eyes,  "  shall  we  stand  here  while  these  robbers 
are  carrying  off  our  property?" 

"  Forward,  my  friends ! "  cried  Abdallah. 
"  One  more  effort !  we  must  have  the  sultana." 

"  She  is  here,  my  lord ;  she  is  here  !  "  answered 
several  voices. 

Abdallah  turned  abruptly  and  saw  Leila,  who 
had  just  been  extricated  from  the  litter,  covered 
with  dust  and  blood,  with  pale  face  and  dishev- 
elled hair,  yet  more  beautiful  than  ever,  despite 
this  disorder.  "  Save  me  !  "  she  cried,  stretch- 
ing out  her  arms,  "  save  me  !  my  only  hope  is 
in  you." 

"Who  was  it,  then,  that  those  knaves  carried 
off?"  asked  Hafiz. 

"  It  was  Cafour,"  said  Leila  ;  "  she  had  put  on 
my  mantle  and  wrapped  me  in  her  burnoose." 

"Well  played,"  said  a  Bedouin,  laughing; 
"  those  sons  of  dogs  have  taken  an  ape  for  a 
woman." 

"  Let  us  begone  quickly,"  cried  the  son  of 
Mansour,  feasting  his  eyes  on  Leila.  "  Let  us 
begone  ;  the  day  is  ours.  Come,  madam,  do  not 
mourn  for  the  slave,"  said  he  to  Leila.  "  For  two 

9 


130  ABD  ALLAH. 

hundred  douros  I  can  buy  just  such  another  at 
Djiddah,  which  I  shall  be  happy  to  offer  you." 

"  Let  us  go,"  echoed  the  camel-drivers ;  "  the 
band  is  large,  and  will  return  to  attack  us  during 
the  night." 

Hafiz  looked  at  Abdallah.  "  What !  "  said  the 
young  man,  moved  with  pity,  "  shall  we  leave  the 
negress  in  the  hands  of  these  wretches?" 

"What  is  written  is  written,"  replied  Omar, 
who  had  lost  all  desire  to  fight.  "  Is  it  wise,  my 
brother,  to  risk  your  life  and  that  of  these  brave 
Mussulmen  for  a  heathen  whom  we  can  replace 
in  two  days  ?  We  must  go ;  we  are  expected  at 
Taif.  Are  you  about  to  quit  us  when  we  are  in 
need  of  you?" 

"  Abdallah,"  said  the  young  woman,  raising  her 
beautiful  eyes  to  him,  "  do  not  abandon  me  !  " 

The  son  of  Yusuf  placed  his  hand  on  his  heart, 
which  he  felt  faltering.  "  No,  no  !  "  he  exclaimed  ; 
"it  shall  not  be  said  that  a  Bedouin  forfeits  his 
word.  If  a  sack  of  coffee  had  been  intrusted  to 
me,  I  would  not  leave  it  in  the  hands  of  these 
robbers,  and  shall  I  abandon  to  them  one  of  God's 
creatures?  Are  there  any  men  here?  Who  will 
come  with  me?"  There  was  silence,  and  one  of 
the  Beni  Amurs  stepped  forth. 

"  There  are  six  of  us  wounded,  and  the  sul- 
tana is  saved,"  said  he.  "We  have  kept  our 
engagement." 

"  Come,  my  child,"  said  Hafiz,  ironically,  "  I 


THE  ATTACK.  131 

see  that  we  are  the  only  two  here  that  have  mad- 
ness in  our  veins.  Let  us  go.  With  God's  aid 
we  will  recover  the  child." 

"Adieu,  my  brother,"  said  Abdallah,  embrac- 
ing Omar ;  "  take  good  care  of  the  stranger.  If 
you  do  not  see  me  in  two  days,  tell  the  sherif  that 
I  have  done  my  duty,  and  my  mother  not  to  weep 
for  me."  And  without  turning  his  head,  the  son 
of  Yusuf  took  the  way  to  the  desert,  accompanied 
by  Hafiz,  who  unclasped  his  burnoose,  and  threw 
over  his  shoulders  a  camel-driver's  cloak.  "  We 
need  the  skin  of  the  fox  instead  of  the  lion,"  said 
he,  laughing. 

Omar  followed  them  with  his  eyes,  and  when 
he  saw  them  disappear,  "  If  they  do  not  return," 
thought  he,  "  it  will  be  no  great  matter.  I  shall 
make  a  better  bargain  with  the  sherif  than  with 
that  youth.  It  is  not  easy  to  dazzle  or  deceive 
these  madcaps  who  never  reason.  Hurrah  for 
men  that  calculate  !  they  are  always  to  be  bought, 
and  through  their  wisdom  we  get  them  at  half 
price." 

As  he  went  on,  Abdallah  heard  behind  him  the 
shouts  of  the  camel- drivers  and  the  noise  of  the 
moving  caravan.  He  was  quitting  all  that  he 
loved  for  a  strange  child.  More  than  once  he  was 
inclined  to  look  back,  but  he  dared  not  brave  his 
uncle,  who,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  seemed  to 
read  the  depths  of  his  heart.  When  the  last 
sound  died  away  in  the  distance,  Abdallah  paused 


132 


ABDALLAH. 


in  spite  of  himself.  His  horse  turned  round, 
snuffing  the  wind,  and  anxious  to  rejoin  its 
friends.  Hafiz  laid  his  hand  on  the  young 
man's  shoulder.  "  My  son,"  said  he,  "  your 
road  lies  before  you." 


XVII. 


ABDALLAH. 

FTER  an  hour's  march  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  Arnaut  tents,  until  then 
hidden  by  a  rising  ground.  The  camp 
was  in  the  midst  of  a  small  tract 
of  brushwood,  where  the  cattle  had  been  turned 
out  to  browse.  "  Let  us  stop  here,"  said  Hafiz, 
approaching  a  rock  illumined  by  the  setting  sun ; 
"  we  have  six  hours  before  us." 

The  horses  tethered,  the  old  man  set  to  work 
to  pick  up  the  dead  branches,  and  tie  them  in 
small  bundles,  with  cartouches  and  cotton  inside. 
When  he  had  finished  his  task,  he  took  from  a 
bag  a  piece  of  dried  meat  and  a  handful  of  dates, 
and  having  eaten  them,  lighted  his  pipe,  and  be- 
gan to  smoke  tranquilly.  "  Now,  my  nephew," 
said  he,  "  I  am  going  to  sleep.  Lovers  do  not 
need  repose,  but  old  men  are  not  like  lovers. 
Wake  me  when  the  Great  Bear  and  her  cubs  are 
yonder  in  the  horizon."  A  few  moments  after,  he 
was  asleep,  while  Abdallah,  his  face  buried  in  his 


134  ABD  ALLAH. 

hands,  mused  on  her  whom  he  had  saved  and 
was  never  more  to  behold. 

Hafiz  awakened  of  his  own  accord  just  before 
the  time  appointed,  and  looked  tenderly  at  his 
young  companion.  "  Well,  my  child,"  said  he, 
"  you  wished  for  danger  that  you  might  forget 
your  folly,  and  God  has  granted  your  prayer. 
Have  courage ;  two  friends  that  cling  together 
will  come  out  safe  from  the  fire." 

On  nearing  the  camp,  the  Bedouins  glided 
among  the  briers  and  bushes.  By  creeping  on 
their  hands  and  knees  between  the  horses'  legs, 
they  assured  themselves  that  it  was  defenceless. 
No  sentinels  had  been  posted  except  at  a  dis- 
tant point ;  all  were  asleep ;  the  fires  had  gone 
out,  and  only  one  tent  was  lighted.  They  noise- 
lessly crept  toward  it ;  being  in  the  shade,  they 
could  see  without  being  seen.  "  Listen,"  said 
Hafiz  ;  "  perhaps  we  shall  learn  what  has  become 
of  the  child." 

Three  men,  better  dressed  than  soldiers,  were 
seated  on  carpets,  smoking  long  pipes,  around  a 
table1  on  which  coffee  was  served.  A  lamp  in 
the  middle  dimly  lighted  their  faces.  All  three 
were  talking  warmly. 

"A  bad  day's  work  !  "  said  one  of  the  officers. 
"  Who  would  have  thought  that  the  captain  would 
have  let  himself  be  killed  by  a  camel-driver  !  " 

1  These  tables,  called  kursi,  are  a  species  of  benches 
from  fifteen  to  eighteen  inches  high. 


ABDALLAH.  135 

"  My  dear  Hassan,"  answered  the  youngest  of 
the  party,  "  what  is  one  man's  misfortune  is  an- 
other's good  luck.  Since  the  captain  is  dead, 
the  command  belongs  to  us." 

"Very  well,  my  dear  Mohammed,"  returned 
Hassan  ;  "  but  which  of  us  three  shall  be  chief?  " 

"  I  will  sell  my  chance,"  said  the  one  who  had 
not  yet  spoken,  and  who  stood  with  his  back  to 
Abdallah.  "  It  is  said  that  the  woman  we  have 
taken  is  a  relative  of  the  Pacha  of  Egypt.  Give 
me  the  sultana,  and  I  will  return  to  Epirus  to  live 
at  my  ease.  A  graybeard  like  me  cares  little  for 
a  woman,  but  the  sherif  will  think  differently. 
To  him  the  prisoner  will  be  well  worth  five 
thousand  douros." 

"  Done,"  said  Hassan.  "  Kara  Shitan,  I  sur- 
render to  you  my  share  of  the  prize." 

"  But  I  do  not,"  said  Mohammed ;  "  I  am 
twenty- five,  and  do  not  sell  women.  The  idea 
of  marrying  a  sultana  pleases  me.  I  should  not 
be  sorry  to  be  the  pacha's  cousin.  My  share  of 
the  command  for  the  princess.  I  have  time 
enough  to  become  captain." 

"  We  can  arrange  it,"  said  the  graybeard  ;  "  the 
sword  to  one,  the  woman  to  another,  and  the 
money  to  me." 

"  So  be  it,"  said  Hassan.  "  I  will  give  two 
thousand  douros." 

" But  what  will  Mohammed  give? " 

"  Mohammed  will  promise  anything  you  like," 


136  ABDALLAH. 

replied  the  young  man,  laughing.  "  He  who  has 
nothing  but  hope  in  his  purse  does  not  stop  to 
haggle." 

"  You  have  a  black  mare ;  I  will  take  her." 

"  Old  Jew,"  cried  Mohammed,  "  dare  to  touch 
my  mare,  and  I  will  break  your  head." 

"Then  you  shall  not  have  the  sultana,"  returned 
the  graybeard. 

"Who  will  hinder  me?" 

"A  man  that  fears  you  little,"  cried  Kara 
Shitan;  and  going  to  the  end  of  the  tent,  he 
touched  the  curtain  that  divided  it  in  two.  "  The 
sultana  is  here ;  take  her  if  you  can,"  he  said. 

Mohammed  drew  his  dagger.  Hassan  threw 
himself  between  the  rivals,  opposing  prayers  and 
counsels  to  threats  and  insults,  without  succeeding 
in  imposing  silence  on  the  opponents. 

"  We  have  them,"  whispered  Hafiz  in  Abdallah's 
ear.  "  I  am  going  to  draw  them  from  the  tent. 
Take  the  child,  go  with  the  horses,  and  wait  for 
me  at  the  Red  Rocks  till  daybreak." 

The  old  man  crept  to  his  bundles  of  sticks,  and 
slipped  them  here  and  there  under  the  most  dis- 
tant tents,  lighting  the  end  of  a  match  which 
projected  from  each.  Meanwhile  Hassan  had 
pacified  the  two  chiefs  by  dint  of  persuasions  and 
promises.  Kara  Shitan  delightedly  thrust  in  his 
girdle  a  magnificent  sabre,  which  Mohammed 
eyed  with  regret.  "Well,"  said  he,  "since  I 
have  bought  the  sultana,  give  her  to  me." 


ABD  ALLAH.  137 

"  It  is  just,"  said  the  graybeard.  He  called  the 
stranger ;  the  curtain  rose ;  and  a  veiled  woman 
came  forth,  wrapped  in  an  Egyptian  mantle. 

The  young  Arnaut  approached  her,  and  said 
in  a  softened  voice,  "  Madam,  war  has  its  rights ; 
you  no  longer  belong  to  the  sherif,  but  to  me. 
I  have  bought  you  with  my  gold ;  if  necessary,  I 
would  have  bought  you  with  my  blood." 

"  It  is  a  dear  bargain,"  said  a  mocking  voice 
which  made  Abdallah  start. 

"  Beauty  is  above  all  price,"  said  Mohammed. 
"What  treasure  could  pay  for  your  charms?" 

"  Two  purses  would  be  enough,"  replied  the 
veiled  lady. 

"  Madam,  that  was  not  the  opinion  of  the  sherif. 
I  am  sure  that  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful 
would  give  half  his  wealth  to  be  in  my  place,  with 
the  beautiful  Egyptian  by  his  side." 

"  If  the  caravan  is  still  on  its  way,  the  beautiful 
Egyptian  will  be  at  Taif  to-morrow,"  returned  the 
stranger. 

"Who  are  you,  then?"  asked  Mohammed. 
For  the  answer,  the  veil  fell,  and  showed  the 
ebony  face  and  white  teeth  of  Cafour.  The 
negress  made  so  strange  a  figure  that  the  old  Ar- 
naut could  not  help  bursting  into  a  laugh  which 
raised  to  its  height  the  fury  of  his  companion. 

"  Woe  to  him  who  has  trifled  with  me  !  "  cried 
Mohammed,  looking  at  Kara  Shitan ;  "  he  shall 
pay  me  sooner  or  later.  As  for  you,  dog,  you 


138  A BD ALL  AH. 

shall  carry  it  no  farther."  And  blind  with  rage, 
he  drew  a  pistol  and  fired  at  the  child.  The 
negress  staggered,  uttering  a  cry  of  pain  and  ter- 
ror. At  the  same  instant  a  shot  was  heard,  and 
Mohammed  reeled  and  fell.  Abdallah  was  in 
the  tent  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand. 

"To  arms!"  cried  the  chiefs,  putting  their 
hands  to  their  belts.  Swifter  than  lightning, 
Cafour  overturned  the  table  and  lamp  with  her 
foot,  and  Abdallah  felt  a  little  hand  grasp  his  and 
draw  him  to  the  back  of  the  tent.  To  enter 
the  women's  apartments  and  lift  a  corner  of 
the  canvas  was  an  easy  thing  for  Cafour,  who 
seemed  to  see  in  the  dark.  Once  outside,  Ab- 
dallah took  the  child  in  his  arms  and  fled  to  the 
desert. 

The  voice  of  the  chiefs  had  roused  the  whole 
band,  but  on  rushing  into  the  tent  they  could  find 
no  one.  "To  horse  !  "  cried  Hassan  ;  "  dead  or 
alive,  the  traitor  shall  not  escape  us." 

All  at  once  a  burning  torch  fell  in  the  midst  of 
the  brush.  The  frightened  horses  rushed  into  the 
plain,  and  at  the  same  time  the  cry  of  fire  was 
raised.  The  conflagration  spread  in  every  direc- 
tion, while  at  a  distance  shots  were  fired  at  the 
sentinels.  "Come,  my  children,"  said  the  cap- 
tain, "  it  is  an  attack ;  the  enemy  is  at  hand. 
Forward  ! " 

Hafiz  had  his  ear  to  the  ground.  "Allah  is 
great ;  Abdallah  is  saved  !  "  he  exclaimed,  when 


ABDALLAH. 


139 


he  heard  the  enemy  coming  toward  him.  He 
plunged  into  a  thicket  and  waited  for  the  Arnauts 
to  pass  ;  then,  leaping  upon  a  stray  horse,  he  gal- 
loped into  the  desert,  without  troubling  himself 
about  the  balls  that  whistled  round  him. 


XVIII. 
THE   SILVER  LEAF. 

BDALLAH  ran  with  his  burden  to  the 
rock  where  he  had  tethered  the  horses. 
He  seated  Cafour  before  him  on  the 
saddle,  and  gave  full  rein  to  Hamama, 
who  flew  over  the  ground,  followed  by  the  horse 
of  Hafiz.  An  hour  passed  before  the  son  of  Yusuf 
dared  stop  to  listen.  Becoming  more  tranquil  in 
proportion  as  he  advanced,  he  at  last  slackened 
his  speed,  and  tried  to  steer  his  course  in  the 
darkness  toward  the  place  where  he  was  to  meet 
his  uncle. 

During  this  rapid  flight  Cafour  had  remained 
mute  and  motionless,  pressed  close  to  Abdallah. 
When  she  understood  that  the  danger  was  passed, 
she  called  him  her  savior.  "  Were  you  too  a 
prisoner?"  she  whispered. 

"  No,  thank  God,"  answered  Abdallah. 
"  Then  why  did  you  come  among  the  tents  of 
vour  enemies?  " 


THE  SILVER  LEAP.  141 

"Why?"  said  the  son  of  Yusuf,  smiling;  "to 
save  you,  of  course." 

The  answer  surprised  Cafour.  She  mused  for 
some  time.  "  Why  did  you  wish  to  save  me  ?  " 
she  said. 

"  Because  you  had  been  confided  to  my 
keeping." 

"  Keep  me  always,  Abdallah ;  no  one  will  pro- 
tect me  like  you." 

"  I  am  not  your  master,"  answered  the  young 
chief;  "you  belong  to  Leila." 

Cafour  sighed  and  said  no  more.  On  reach- 
ing the  Red  Rocks,  Abdallah  lifted  her  from 
the  saddle.  She  uttered  a  cry,  which  she  in- 
stantly smothered.  "  It  is  nothing,  master ;  I  am 
wounded,"  she  whispered,  and  she  stretched  out 
her  bleeding  arm.  The  ball  had  grazed  the 
shoulder,  tearing  the  flesh.  Abdallah  examined 
the  wound  by  the  light  of  the  stars,  then  sponged 
and  bandaged  it,  while  Cafour  looked  at  him  with 
astonishment. 

"Since  I  do  not  belong  to  you,  why  do  you 
bind  up  my  wound?"  she  asked. 

"  Silence,  heathen  !  you  know  not  the  words 
of  the  Book  of  Truth  :  '  Serve  God,  and  associate 
no  creature  with  him ;  show  kindness  unto  pa- 
rents and  relations  and  orphans  and  the  poor, 
and  your  neighbor  who  is  of  kin  to  you,  and  also 
your  neighbor  who  is  a  stranger,  and  to  your 
familiar  companion,  and  the  traveller,  and  the 


142  ABDALLAH. 

captives  whom  your  right  hands  shall  possess ; 
for  God  loveth  neither  pride,  nor  vanity,  nor 
avarice.'  " 

"That  is  beautiful,"  said  Cafour;  "it  was  a 
great  God  who  said  it." 

"Hush,  and  go  to  sleep,"  interrupted  the  young 
man ;  "  the  road  will  be  long  to-morrow,  and  you 
need  rest."  As  he  spoke,  Abdallah  took  the  child 
on  his  lap,  and  wrapping  her  in  his  burnoose,  sup- 
ported her  head  with  his  arm.  Cafour  soon  fell 
asleep.  At  first  she  tossed  about  and  talked  in 
her  sleep,  while  her  heart  beat  so  loudly  that  Ab- 
dallah could  hear  it.  By  degrees  she  grew  calmer, 
her  limbs  relaxed,  and  she  slept  so  sweetly 
that  she  could  hardly  be  heard  to  breathe.  The 
soldier  gently  rocked  the  young  girl  whom  the 
fate  of  war  had  given  him  for  a  day,  thinking,  as 
he  gazed  on  her,  of  his  mother  and  all  that  she 
had  suffered  for  him.  He  remained  thus  through 
the  night,  enjoying  a  peace  to  which  he  had  be- 
fore been  a  stranger.  A  deep  silence  reigned 
around  him  on  the  earth ;  not  a  breath  of  wind 
nor  a  sound  was  stirring ;  in  the  heavens  all  was 
motionless  save  that  luminous  army  which  for  cen- 
turies has  obeyed  the  command  of  the  Eternal. 
This  repose  of  all  things  refreshed  Abdallah's  soul, 
and  he  forgot  both  the  dangers  of  the  day  and 
the  anxiety  of  the  morrow. 

A  faint  streak  of  light  in  the  horizon  had  scarcely 
announced  the  dawn,  when  the  cry  of  a  jackal  was 


THE  SILVER  LEAF.  143 

heard  in  the  distance.  The  sound  was  thrice  re- 
peated. Abdallah  echoed  it.  His  cry  was  an- 
swered, and  a  panting  horse  bounded  to  the  rock 
—  Hafiz  was  safe. 

"  Well,  nephew,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  the  trick 
has  succeeded  ;  they  are  smoked  out  like  so  many 
rats.  Forward  !  we  must  not  make  them  wait  for 
us  at  Taif." 

A  red  light  streaked  the  east.  Abdallah  spread 
the  carpet  of  prayer,  and  the  two  comrades, 
with  their  faces  turned  toward  Mecca,  thanked 
the  All- Powerful  who  had  rescued  them  from 
peril. 

"Abdallah,"  said  Cafour,  falling  on  her  knees 
before  her  savior,  "  you  are  my  god ;  I  will  wor- 
ship no  other." 

"  Silence,  heathen  ! "  cried  the  son  of  Yusuf. 
"  There  is  but  one  God,  who  has  no  associate,  — 
the  Eternal,  the  Incomparable ;  it  is  he  whom 
you  must  worship  and  adore." 

"Then  your  God  shall  be  my  God,"  said 
Cafour.  "  I  will  not  have  a  god  that  leaves  me 
to  be  murdered." 

"Your  god,"  said  Abdallah,  "is  deaf,  dumb, 
and  blind ;  it  is  some  piece  of  wood  rotting  in 
the  Maghreb." 

"  No,"  interrupted  the  child,  "  my  god  was  with 
me,  and  did  not  help  me.  Here,"  she  added, 
taking  from  her  hair  a  tuft  of  feathers,  "  take  it ; 
break  it  in  pieces.  I  want  it  no  longer." 


144  ABDALLAH. 

"  Is  that  bunch  of  feathers  your  god  ?  "  said 
Hafiz,  smiling. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  child,  "it  is  the  god  my 
mother  gave  me  when  she  sold  me.  It  is  pretty ; 
look  at  it."  And  pulling  out  and  breaking  the 
feathers  while  she  loaded  them  with  reproaches, 
she  took  from  the  bunch  a  thin  piece  of  silver, 
which  she  gave  to  Abdallah. 

"  My  uncle,"  cried  the  latter,  in  a  transport  of 
joy,  "  see  what  has  come  to  us  from  the  Maghreb  ! 
God  has  sent  us  the  shamrock-leaf.  You  have 
saved  me,  my  uncle  !  Glory  and  gratitude  to 
God  ! " 

And  the  two  friends,  intoxicated  with  joy,  em- 
braced the  child,  who,  not  understanding  their 
caresses,  gazed  at  them  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
astonished  and  happy  at  feeling  herself  beloved. 


XIX. 
THE   SECRET. 

HEN  the  two  friends  at  last  perceived 
the  caravan  winding  like  a  huge  ser- 
pent in  the  distance,  night  was  ap- 
proaching ;  the  last  beams  of  the  sun 
shone  on  the  white  houses  of  Taif,  gleaming  amid 
the  gardens  like  eglantines  in  a  thicket.  They 
were  quitting  the  empire  of  the  sands ;  the  peril 
was  overcome,  and  the  journey  finished.  At  the 
sight  of  Taif,  Abdallah  was  seized  with  bitter  sor- 
row. Restless,  troubled,  bereft  of  his  reason,  one 
thought  filled  his  soul,  —  Leila  was  lost  to  him. 
The  Bedouins  received  their  companions  with 
cries  of  joy.  Omar  embraced  his  brother  with 
the  greatest  tenderness.  Abdallah  remained  cold 
to  all  these  caresses ;  his  only  emotion  was  on 
parting  with  Cafour.  The  poor  girl  threw  herself 
into  her  savior's  arms,  and  nothing  could  tear 
her  from  them,  until  at  last  Abdallah  was  forced 
harshly  to  command  her  to  return  to  her  mistress. 

10 


146  ABD  ALLAH. 

She  departed  in  tears.  The  son  of  Yusuf  fixed  a 
longing  gaze  on  her ;  he  had  broken  the  last  link 
that  bound  him  to  Leila. 

Cafour  was  approaching  the  litter  when  Omar 
called  to  her,  showing  her  two  articles  which  he 
held  in  his  hand.  "  Come  hither,  child  of  Satan," 
he  said  in  a  half-jeering,  half-threatening  tone ; 
"  what  is  the  difference  between  this  whip  and 
this  necklace  of  five  strings  of  pearls  ?  " 

"  The  same  difference  that  there  is  between 
your  brother  and  you,"  answered  the  negress. 
"  One  is  as  beautiful  as  the  rainbow ;  the  other  is 
fit  for  nothing  but  to  kindle  the  fires  of  the  pit." 

"  You  have  your  father's  wit,"  returned  Omar, 
calmly ;  "  it  will  not  be  hard,  therefore,  for  you 
to  choose.  Do  you  want  the  necklace  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  negress,  with  sparkling 
eyes.  "  What  am  I  to  do  for  it?  " 

"Very  little.  In  an  hour  you  will  be  in  the 
harem ;  every  one  will  wish  to  see  you,  and  noth- 
ing will  be  easier  than  for  you  to  gain  admittance 
to  the  sherifs  wife,  the  Sultana  Fatima.  Repeat 
to  her,  word  for  word,  what  I  shall  tell  you,  and 
the  necklace  is  yours." 

"  Give  it  to  me,"  said  Cafour,  stretching  out 
her  hand  ;  "  I  am  listening." 

"  While  you  are  amusing  the  sultana  with  your 
ape's  face  and  kittenish  grimaces,  whisper  to  her, 
'  Mistress,  I  have  a  message  to  you  from  a  friend. 
"  Moon  of  May,"  he  says,  "  a  new  moon  is  ap- 


THE  SECRET.  147 

preaching.  If  you  do  not  wish  her  to  disturb  the 
serenity  of  your  nights,  keep  the  sun  in  the  sign  of 
Gemini.  Importune,  urge,  and  command.  Take 
for  your  motto,  Love  is  like  madness ;  everything 
is  forgiven  it."  ' 

"Repeat  the  last  sentence,"  said  Cafour. 
"  Good  ;  I  know  it  now  :  '  Love  is  like  madness  ; 
everything  is  forgiven  it.'  The  sultana  shall  have 
your  message.  One  word  only  :  can  these  words 
do  any  harm  to  your  brother?  " 

"  None,"  replied  the  son  of  Mansour,  suppress- 
ing a  smile.  "  Abdallah  has  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  it.  He  is  threatened  by  no  danger ;  and 
even  if  he  were  in  peril,  these  words  would  insure 
his  safety.  Farewell.  Speak  of  this  to  no  one ; 
and  if  you  obey  me,  rely  on  my  generosity.  The 
date  is  ripe,  who  will  gather  it?  "  he  added  to 
himself.  "  I  am  rid  of  the  handsome  Abdallah ; 
it  remains  for  me  now  to  second  the  sultana's 
jealousy  and  add  to  the  enemies  of  the  sherif. 
The  game  is  not  without  danger,  but,  cost  what 
it  may,  Leila  must  quit  the  harem  ;  once  outside 
of  it,  she  is  mine." 

On  rejoining  her  mistress,  Cafour  was  surprised 
to  see  her  pale  and  haggard,  her  eyes  glittering 
with  fever.  "What  is  the  matter?"  said  the 
child.  "Are  you  weeping  when  your  happiness 
is  about  to  begin,  —  when  you  will  have  four  slaves 
to  wait  on  you,  robes  of  velvet  and  satin,  Cash- 
mere scarfs,  slippers  embroidered  with  gold  and 


148  ABD ALLAH. 

pearls,  enamel  necklaces,  diamond  tiaras,  and 
ruby  and  sapphire  bracelets?  What  more  can  a 
woman  desire?  You  were  so  happy  at  coming 
here  on  quitting  Egypt,  why  have  you  changed?  " 

"  You  cannot  understand  me ;  you  are  only  a 
child,"  said  Leila,  in  a  languishing  voice. 

"  I  am  no  longer  a  child,  mistress,"  returned 
the  negress.  "  I  am  almost  twelve  years  old ;  I 
am  a  woman ;  you  can  trust  in  me." 

"  Ah,  my  poor  Cafour,"  cried  the  Egyptian, 
sighing,  "  if  you  would  preserve  your  heart,  keep 
your  eyes  shut.  Why  did  I  see  that  handsome 
young  man?  Had  it  not  been  for  him,  I  should 
have  joyfully  entered  the  harem ;  now  I  shall  be 
there  like  the  dead  among  the  living." 

"Do  you  love  Abdallah,  then?"  asked  the 
child,  touched  by  this  confidence. 

"  Do  I  love  him  ?  Is  it  possible  to  see  him 
without  loving  him?  Is  there  a  more  beautiful 
face  than  his  in  paradise?  His  look  is  so  gra- 
cious, his  voice  so  sweet,  his  very  name  is  per- 
fume !  Do  I  love  him?  Awake,  my  soul  lives 
for  him  alone ;  asleep,  my  heart  wakes  and  lan- 
guishes with  love  !  Would  to  God  that  I  had 
been  born  amid  the  tents,  with  this  Bedouin  for 
my  brother,  that  I  might  cast  myself  into  his  arms 
with  none  to  despise  me  !  " 

"  Go  with  him,"  said  Cafour.  "  I  will  tell  him 
to  carry  you  off." 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of?     I  am  a  slave ;  I 


THE  SECRET.  149 

have  a  master.  Besides,  do  you  think  that  Ab- 
dallah  would  ever  break  his  word  ?  He  is  taking 
me  to  the  sherif;  would  you  have  him  betray 
his  faith?" 

"  Then  tell  the  sherif  to  give  you  Abdallah  for 
a  husband." 

"  Hush,  idiot.  Such  a  request  would  be  the 
death-sentence  of  us  all." 

Cafour  musingly  repeated  to  herself  Omar's 
message;  then,  looking  at  Leila,  "Mistress,"  said 
she,  "  if  you  should  become  Abdallah's  wife,  and 
go  to  dwell  with  him  amid  the  tents,  would  you 
keep  me  with  you?" 

"  Always,  child.  I  love  you ;  you  shall  never 
quit  me." 

"  Should  I  be  your  slave  and  Abdallah's  all 
my  life?" 

"Of  course.  But  of  what  use  is  such  a 
question?" 

"  Swear  this  to  me,"  returned  Cafour,  in  a 
solemn  voice,  "  and  let  me  alone.  Do  not  ques- 
tion me ;  do  not  shake  your  head  with  disdain. 
What  do  you  risk  in  swearing  what  I  ask  ? 
Would  you  sell  me  or  send  me  away?" 

"  No,  indeed.  Should  it  please  God  for  me 
to  become  the  wife  of  him  whom  I  love  like 
my  own  soul,  you  shall  always  remain  with 
us ;  I  swear  it  to  you  in  the  name  of  God, 
the  clement,  the  merciful,  the  Sovereign  of  the 
worlds  —  " 


150  ABDALLAH. 

"  My  mistress,  I  am  an  ignorant  heathen ;  swear 
it  to  me  only  by  the  God  of  Abdallah." 

Talking  thus,  the  two  friends  reached  the  harem, 
where  numerous  companions  awaited  them.  Ca- 
four,  still  laughing,  leaped  from  the  palanquin  and 
ran  toward  a  large  room,  brilliantly  lighted,  and 
filled  with  tables  covered  with  silver  and  flowers. 
Leila  complained  of  the  fatigue  of  the  journey, 
and  retired  to  her  chamber  to  weep  without 
restraint.  Useless  grief,  powerless  to  remedy 
an  ill  that  could  not  be  cured  !  "  He  who  is 
intoxicated  with  wine,"  says  the  sage  of  Shiraz, 
"  awakens  during  the  night ;  he  who  is  intoxi- 
cated with  love  awakens  only  on  the  morning  of 
the  resurrection ! " 


XX. 

THE   PATIENCE   OF    REYNARD. 

flBDALLAH  wished  to  set  out  the  same 
evening,  and  Hafiz  was  not  less  im- 
patient. It  seemed  to  him  that  by 
fleeing  to  the  desert  his  nephew  would 
leave  anxiety  and  sorrow  behind  him.  But  the 
sherif  had  announced  that  he  would  receive  the 
chiefs  of  the  caravan  the  next  day,  and  it  was 
impossible  to  decline  the  honor. 

At  an  early  hour  they  repaired  to  the  palace. 
The  courtyard  was  full  of  Bedouins,  dressed  in 
their  blue  robes  set  off  by  a  scarlet  scarf  thrown 
across  the  shoulder.  All  wished  to  shake  hands 
with  the  brave  Abdallah  and  the  prudent  Hafiz. 
Omar  talked  in  a  low  voice  with  the  old  shepherd. 
For  the  first  time  he  complained  of  the  dangers  of 
the  road ;  for  the  first  time  he  reproached  the 
sherif  for  having  exposed  so  many  brave  men  to 
almost  certain  death.  Hafiz  approved  his  words, 
and  seconded  them  with  a  warmth  which  de- 
lighted the  son  of  Mansour. 


152  ABD ALLAH. 

The  visitors  were  led  by  black  slaves  into  a 
room  covered  with  rich  carpets,  and  surrounded 
with  divans  of  green  silk  embroidered  with  gold. 
The  walls  were  bare  of  all  ornament  except  a 
beautiful  Turkish  sabre,  set  with  topazes  and 
rubies,  a  gift  from  the  sultan.  Omar  pointed  it 
out  to  Hafiz,  who,  while  murmuring  against  what 
he  called  a  weakness,  nevertheless  bowed  re- 
spectfully before  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful. 
After  receiving  the  salutations  of  all  the  band,  the 
sherif  clapped  his  hands,  and  pipes  and  coffee 
were  instantly  served.  The  Bedouins  seated  them- 
selves on  the  ground,  and  each  smoked  in  silence. 
Abdallah  started ;  among  the  crowd  of  servants 
who  stood  awaiting  their  master's  orders,  he  had 
just  seen  Cafour,  who  raised  her  hand  to  her  throat. 
Whether  it  was  to  him  or  to  some  other  that  the 
child  made  the  sign,  he  could  not  guess ;  no  one 
raised  his  eyes,  least  of  all  Omar. 

The  descendant  of  the  Prophet  seemed  buried 
in  deep  reflection.  He  was  a  noble-looking  old 
man,  whose  white  beard,  large  nose,  and  calm 
eyes  gave  him  an  air  of  majesty.  A  large  turban, 
a  blue  robe  of  the  finest  Cashmere,  and  a  girdle 
of  gold  and  purple,  in  which  glittered  a  dagger 
covered  with  precious  stones,  added  to  his  dignity. 
At  heart,  the  sherif  was  a  sage  who  thought  of  no 
one  but  himself.  Intractable  toward  all  who  dis- 
turbed his  peace,  he  was  the  gentlest  of  mankind 
when  his  passions  and  habits  were  let  alone. 


THE  PATIENCE   OF  REYNARD.  153 

Power  had  not  spoiled  him ;  he  readily  listened 
to  the  truth  when  it  did  not  affect  himself,  and 
suffered  without  complaint  the  most  shameless 
falsehoods  of  his  flatterers  and  servants.  Fastidi- 
ous, a  great  lover  of  stories,  and  a  refined  poet, 
his  only  weakness  —  a  weakness  natural  to  his 
age  —  was  the  desire  to  be  loved.  Thanks  to  this 
secret,  which  she  had  learned  the  very  first  day, 
the  beautiful  Fatima  made  her  master  the  most 
obedient  of  slaves ;  she  made  him  submit  to  all 
her  fancies  by  telling  him  that  a  woman's  caprices 
are  a  proof  of  her  love.  At  sixty  it  is  easier  to 
believe  than  to  quarrel,  and  the  sherif  yielded  to 
avoid  a  storm,  too  happy  when  he  was  rewarded 
with  a  caress.  This  morning,  however,  there  was 
not  a  cloud  on  the  horizon.  The  Commander 
of  the  Faithful  seemed  in  excellent  humor;  he 
smiled  as  he  ran  his  fingers  through  his  long 
beard,  and  looked  like  a  man  just  waking  from  a 
blissful  dream  which  he  would  fain  retain. 

The  second  pipe  finished,  the  sherif  took  up 
the  conversation,  and  in  the  most  gracious  terms 
thanked  the  Bedouins  and  Omar  for  their  visit 
and  their  services.  Instead  of  replying  to  this 
courtesy,  the  son  of  Mansour  started  up  like  a 
criminal  struck  with  terror,  and  prostrating  him- 
self before  the  descendant  of  the  Prophet,  kissed 
his  feet. 

"  Son  of  Ali  and  of  Hassan,"  said  he,  in  a 
broken  voice,  "  I  know  what  the  slave  deserves 


154  ABD  ALLAH. 

who  suffers  his  master's  trust  to  be  violated.  I 
know  my  crime,  and  await  without  complaint  the 
punishment  reserved  for  me  by  your  justice." 

"  Rise,"  said  the  sherif,  kindly.  "  What  is 
written  is  written.  God  sends  disaster  and  suc- 
cess by  turns  to  men,  in  order  that  he  may  know 
the  believers,  and  choose  his  witnesses  from 
among  you.  As  to  the  insult  offered  me  by  those 
wretches,  I  shall  choose  the  day  and  hour  for 
reparation.  Patience  —  with  patience  everything 
comes  in  due  season." 

"  Alas  ! "  continued  the  son  of  Mansour,  still 
on  his  knees,  "  the  attack  was  nothing ;  my 
brother  Abdaliah  and  his  brave  Bedouins  re- 
pulsed the  traitors.  But  we  were  surprised ;  the 
slave  was  for  a  moment  in  the  hands  of  the 
enemy ;  those  men  without  faith  and  honor  tore 
off  her  veil,  and  profaned  with  their  unworthy 
looks  that  beauty  which  should  have  been  sacred 
from  all." 

"  Enough  !  "  interrupted  the  sherif,  displeased 
at  this  tale.  "  The  care  of  my  honor  concerns 
me  alone.  Patience  !  " 

"  Patience  !  "  exclaimed  Hafiz ;  "  that  was 
what  the  fox  said  when  he  feigned  death." 

"What  was  it  that  the  fox  said?"  asked  the 
sherif,  looking  sternly  at  Hafiz,  who  seemed 
moved  by  any  other  feeling  than  that  of  fear. 

"  There  was  once  a  fox  who  was  growing  old," 
said  the  Bedouin,  "  and  who  abandoned  the 


THE  PATIENCE   OF  REYNARD.  155 

chase  and  all  adventures  in  order  every  night 
to  visit  a  poultry-yard  near  his  hole,  where  he 
grew  fat  without  trouble  or  danger.  One  night 
he  forgot  how  the  time  was  passing,  and  when 
he  was  ready  to  go  out,  he  found  the  sun  risen 
and  every  one  at  work.  To  return  safely  seemed 
impossible ;  so  in  order  not  to  brave  certain 
danger,  he  stretched  himself  by  the  roadside  and 
pretended  to  be  dead,  saying,  '  Patience ;  in 
patience  there  is  safety.'  The  first  who  passed 
by  paid  no  attention  to  him.  The  second  turned 
him  over  with  his  foot  to  be  sure  that  he  was 
dead.  The  third  was  a  child,  who  amused  him- 
self by  pulling  out  his  whiskers.  '  Patience  ! ' 
said  the  fox.  '  The  child  knows  not  what  he  is 
doing ;  he  does  not  mean  to  insult  me.  It  is 
better  to  suffer  vexation  than  to  run  the  risk  of 
death.'  Next  came  a  hunter  with  a  gun  on  his 
shoulder.  '  A  fox's  nail  is  a  sovereign  remedy 
for  a  felon,'  said  he,  taking  out  his  knife.  '  Pa- 
tience ! '  said  the  fox ;  '  it  is  better  to  live  with 
three  paws  than  to  die  with  four ; '  and  he  let 
himself  be  mutilated  without  stirring.  Next  came 
a  woman  with  a  child  on  her  shoulder.  'This 
fox's  teeth  will  make  a  necklace  that  will  preserve 
my  babe  from  the  evil  eye,'  said  she." 

"I  know  the  story,"  interrupted  the  sherif; 
"  when  the  mother  came  near,  the  fox  flew  in  her 
face." 

"  My  story  does  not  say  so,"  returned  Hafiz, 


156  ABD  ALLAH, 

gravely.  "  When  once  we  compound  with  our 
courage,  we  know  not  where  to  stop.  The  fox 
let  himself  be  robbed  of  his  teeth,  repeating  '  Pa- 
tience ! '  and  lay  still  till  a  last  thief  tore  out  his 
heart,  when  he  saw,  but  too  late,  that  patience  is 
the  surest  of  dangers." 

"  I  begin  to  think  so,"  said  the  sherif,  "  since  a 
Bedouin  comes  to  my  palace  to  tell  me  his  fool- 
ish stories.  A  shepherd  must  be  rude  indeed  not 
to  understand  my  indulgence  and  to  insult  my 
goodness.  If  the  caravan  was  attacked  in  a  safe 
country  traversed  by  all  the  merchants,  whose 
fault  was  it  except  those  who  chose  for  their 
leader  a  child  whom  I  spare  through  pity?  A 
dozen  armed  and  resolute  Bedouins  always  cross 
the  desert  without  any  one  daring  to  attack  them. 
If  the  Arnauts  surprised  you,  a  snare  must  have 
been  laid  for  you,  into  which  you  fell  either 
through  folly  or  treachery." 

"  My  lord,"  cried  the  son  of  Mansour,  raising 
his  hands  in  supplication,  "  you  speak  truly ;  this 
was  my  fault.  In  choosing  my  brother  and  friend 
for  the  leader  of  the  caravan,  I  ought  to  have  re- 
membered that  at  our  age  passion  renders  us 
blind.  Chance  destroyed  us.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  journey  the  sight  of  the  slave  troubled  the 
young  man,  and  made  him  forget  his  prudence." 

"What  do  I  hear?"  cried  the  sherif,  with 
flashing  eyes.  "  Is  this  the  way  that  I  am 
obeyed?  Is  this  the  way  that  I  am  respected? 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  REYNARD.  157 

Woe  to  him  who  has  trifled  with  me  !  He  shall 
see  whether  I  will  submit  to  insult.  Merchant, 
you  shall  be  punished  for  your  imprudence,  and, 
young  man,  you  shall  suffer  for  your  folly."  And 
calling  a  negro  with  a  large  sabre  at  his  side,  the 
Commander  of  the  Faithful  pointed  to  Omar  and 
Abdallah,  making  a  horizontal  movement  with  his 
hand.  It  was  the  sentence  of  death. 

The  Bedouins  looked  at  each  other,  shuddering, 
but  no  one,  not  even  Hafiz,  dared  rebel  against 
the  descendant  of  the  Prophet.  Omar  heard 
the  sentence  without  changing  countenance;  he 
looked  around  him  as  if  to  implore  aid,  and 
raising  his  hand,  made  a  sign  to  the  negress 
which  she  did  not  seem  to  comprehend.  The 
son  of  Mansour  frowned  angrily.  "Accursed 
be  the  dervish  !  "  murmured  he.  "  Can  he  have 
told  the  truth  ?  Is  my  confidence  in  the  Bedouin 
about  to  plunge  me  into  this  ruin?  Can  I  have 
loved  this  madman  better  than  I  thought?" 

Abdallah  raised  his  eyes,  and  proudly  smiled  at 
the  executioner.  "  Poor  child  !  "  said  Hafiz,  em- 
bracing his  nephew,  "  I  have  slain  you." 

"  No,  my  father,"  replied  the  young  man, 
calmly,  "  it  is  God  that  gives  life  and  death.  Be 
resigned,  and  comfort  my  mother.  Do  not  pity 
me ;  to  me  death  is  better  than  life."  Then, 
turning  to  Omar,  who  still  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  negress,  he  gave  him  his  hand.  "  My  brother, 
pardon  me,"  said  he,  "  in  the  name  of  her  who 


158  ABD ALLAH. 

watched  over  your  childhood."  And  bowing 
respectfully  to  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful, 
he  followed  the  executioner. 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  Cafour,  falling  at  the  sherif  s  feet. 
"  It  was  my  fault ;  it  was  I  that  snatched  off  my 
mistress's  veil.  Kill  me,  but  spare  Abdallah." 

"  Drive  off  this  daughter  of  a  dog,  and  punish 
her  till  she  is  silent,"  said  the  sherif. 

"  Pardon  !  "  cried  the  child,  as  a  negro  was 
carrying  her  off,  —  "  pardon  !  "  and  with  a  des- 
perate effort  she  tore  herself  from  the  slave,  leav- 
ing a  piece  of  her  dress  in  his  hands.  "  Pity  !  " 
she  murmured,  clasping  the  knees  of  the  sherif, 
who  rudely  repulsed  her.  "  Pity,  master ;  Ab- 
dallah is  innocent ;  he  was  not  the  guilty  one." 
Then,  suddenly  spying  Omar's  contracted  fea- 
tures, she  sprang  up  as  if  struck  with  lightning, 
and  stretching  her  hands  toward  the  prince,  "  Do 
not  be  cruel,"  said  she.  "  Remember  that  love 
is  like  madness ;  everything  is  forgiven  it." 

"  Stop  ! "  cried  the  sherif  to  the  executioner. 
"  There  is  something  strange  in  this,"  thought  he  ; 
"  it  is  the  same  sentence  that  Fatima  repeated  to 
me  this  morning,  and  refused  to  explain  to  me. 
Come  here,  child,"  said  he  to  Cafour,  in  a  milder 
tone.  "  Where  do  these  words  come  from  —  do 
you  know?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Cafour  ;  "  they  come  from  lips  that 
open  only  for  consolation  and  pity." 

"  Do  you  know  the  meaning  of  them  ?  " 


THE  PATIENCE   OF  REYNARD.  159 

"  Yes,"  replied  Cafour,  trembling  as  she  spoke. 
"  Abdallah  has  never  heard  these  words,  but  Omar 
has  long  known  the  secret  of  them.  Question 
him ;  he  will  tell  you  everything." 

"Oh,  my  master,"  cried  Omar,  dragging  him- 
self to  the  sherif  s  feet,  and  speaking  in  a  sup- 
pressed voice,  "  the  child  is  right.  I  know 
these  words  but  too  well;  they  were  the  cause 
of  my  fault,  and  will  perhaps  excuse  it.  When 
you  summoned  me  to  Taif,  my  errand  was  sus- 
pected ;  before  I  could  quit  your  palace,  a  mad 
promise  was  wrung  from  me,  which  I  have  only 
too  faithfully  obeyed.  I  compromised  the  slave 
as  I  had  been  commanded.  Could  I  resist  a  will 
protected  by  your  love  ?  Happy  is  he  who  can 
inspire  such  ardent  passion;  will  not  happiness 
render  him  indulgent?" 

While  uttering  these  unblushing  falsehoods,  the 
son  of  Mansour  studied  the  sherif  s  face,  which 
resumed  its  serenity.  Omar  soon  ceased  to  sup- 
plicate the  old  man  who  held  his  life  in  his  hands. 
Sure  of  his  victory,  he  began  to  flatter  him  beyond 
measure,  and  by  adroit  words  gradually  soothed 
the  last  emotions  of  anger  in  his  soul. 

"  Rise  !  I  pardon  you,"  said  the  sherif,  at  length. 
"  I  also  pardon  this  proud  Bedouin,  who  braves 
me  even  under  the  sword  of  the  executioner.  I 
have  shown  that  I  fear  no  one,  and  that  I  know 
how  to  punish  those  who  insult  me ;  it  is  enough. 
I  keep  the  blood  of  my  faithful  followers  for  a 


160  ABD ALLAH. 

better  occasion.  Young  man,"  he  added,  looking 
at  Abdallah  with  a  kindly  smile,  "  remember  that 
henceforth  your  life  belongs  to  me  ;  I  rely  on  you, 
as  well  as  your  friends,  to  avenge  our  common 
insult." 

For  his  sole  answer,  the  son  of  Yusuf  took  the 
sherifs  hand  and  kissed  it  with  emotion,  while 
Hafiz  burst  into  transports  of  joy  and  gratitude. 

"  Here  !  "  said  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful, 
calling  Cafour ;  "  come  hither,  daughter  of  night. 
Is  this  all  that  the  sultana  told  you?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  negress,  boldly,  putting 
on  a  mysterious  air.  "  The  sultana  told  me  that 
if  you  pardoned  her  her  mad  love,  she  must  also 
have  a  proof  of  your  affection." 

"  Speak,"  said  the  old  man ;  "  what  can  I  refuse 
a  poor  creature  that  loves  me  to  distraction?  " 

"  The  sultana  fears  that  you  will  refuse  her  re- 
quest ;  to  grant  it,  she  says,  needs  a  love  as  great 
as  her  own." 

"  Speak,"  said  the  sherif ;  "  I  am  dying  of  im- 
patience." 

"Well,  then,  do  not  give  her  for  a  rival  this 
strange  woman,  dishonored  by  the  gaze  of  the 
Bedouins  and  Arnauts." 

"  Is  that  all?"  replied  the  Commander  of  the 
Faithful,  smiling.  "  What !  raise  this  woman  to 
my  throne,  after  all  that  has  passed  ?  Never  !  She 
shall  remain  a  slave,  and  end  her  days  in  a  corner 
of  the  harem." 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  REYNARD.  l6l 

"  That  is  not  what  the  sultana  means ;  she  is 
anxious  and  jealous.  What  she  desires  is  that 
Leila  should  quit  the  palace,  never  more  to  return. 
'  Let  my  husband,'  said  she,  '  let  the  beloved  of 
my  soul  give  me  a  last  pledge  of  his  love.  Can 
he  not  leave  this  creature  to  those  who  brought 
her  hither?  It  will  be  easy  to  find  an  honorable 
match  for  her  among  the  Bedouins,  and  I  shall  be 
left  alone  to  love  the  master  of  my  life.'  " 

"  Oh,  the  weakness  of  women  !  "  cried  the  de- 
scendant of  the  Prophet.  "  The  Koran  is  right  in 
recommending  indulgence  to  us  who  have  strength 
and  sense.  This  jealousy  of  Fatima's  is  madness, 
at  which  I  should  blush  to  yield,  were  it  not  my 
pleasure  to  show  her  that  nothing  is  impossible 
either  to  my  power  or  my  love.  Bring  Leila 
hither,  and  tell  the  sultana  that  her  rival  shall  not 
return  to  the  harem.  Such  is  my  will ;  I  mean 
that  all  shall  respect  it." 

And  turning  to  the  Bedouins,  "  My  friends," 
said  the  sherif,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  I  make  you  the 
judges  of  my  conduct.  What  should  I  do  with  the 
Egyptian  woman  whom  you  have  escorted  hither? 
Through  respect  for  myself,  I  cannot  take  her 
as  a  wife  ;  through  respect  for  the  pacha,  I  cannot 
keep  her  as  a  slave.  This,  therefore,  is  what  I 
propose  to  do  :  if  there  is  any  one  among  you  who 
is  willing  to  marry  a  foreigner,  I  will  give  her  to  him 
with  a  fitting  dowry,  otherwise  I  will  marry  her  to 
some  rich  merchant  of  Medina  or  Mecca." 


1 62  ABD ALLAH. 

"God  is  great !  "  cried  the  son  of  Yusuf,  seiz- 
ing Hafiz's  arm.  "  We  will  look  no  farther  for 
the  four-leaved  shamrock.  It  is  here  ;  it  is  mine ; 
I  have  found  happiness." 

"  Courage,  my  son  !  "  said  the  old  man  ;  "  it  is 
needed  even  to  be  happy.  I  do  not  think,"  he 
added,  looking  at  the  sherif,  "  that  it  will  be  ne- 
cessary to  go  to  Mecca  to  marry  the  stranger.  If 
a  husband  only  is  needed,  here  is  a  young  man 
who  will  yield  to  no  one  either  in  birth,  fortune, 
or  courage." 

"  My  lord,"  said  Omar,  bowing  low  to  the 
sherif,  "  I  should  never  have  had  the  boldness  to 
raise  my  eyes  to  a  woman  confided  to  my  charge  ; 
but  since  things  have  changed,  and  you  permit  it, 
I  venture  to  aspire  to  the  hand  of  Leila.  She  is 
a  slave  of  the  pacha ;  from  her  childhood  she  has 
been  accustomed  to  the  ease  and  luxury  of  the 
harem.  On  coming  hither  she  dreamed  of  a  for- 
tune which  has  escaped  her  grasp ;  who  knows 
whether  tent-life  will  not  seem  hard  to  her? 
Wealth  is  a  necessity  to  a  woman  that  has  always 
lived  in  a  palace.  I  entreat  your  lordship,  there- 
fore, to  give  the  stranger  to  the  one  that  shall 
offer  the  largest  dowry ;  it  will  be  a  last  mark  of 
kindness  to  her  who  owes  everything  to  your 
goodness." 

"  The  request  is  just,"  said  the  sherif.  "  Bring 
the  Egyptian  hither.  Let  the  suitors  come  for- 
ward ;  I  will  hear  their  proposals." 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  REYNARD. 


I63 


"My  uncle,"  murmured  the  son  of  Yusuf,  "I 

am  lost !  " 

"  At  last,"  said  Omar,  "  Leila  is  mine  !  " 
Cafour  looked  at  the  two  brothers,  and  ran  to 

the  harem. 


XXI. 

THE   AUCTION. 

|HILE  the  slaves  went  in  search  of  Leila, 
Hafiz  approached  the  son  of  Mansour. 
"  Omar,"  said  he,  "  listen  to  an  old 
man  who  has  dandled  you  on  his  knees. 
It  is  said  that  you  are  richer  than  your  father; 
women  bow  before  your  fortune,  and  there  is  not 
a  merchant  in  Egypt  or  Syria  but  would  think 
himself  honored  by  your  alliance.  Nothing  fet- 
ters your  desires.  Abdallah,  on  the  contrary,  can 
never  love  another  woman ;  he  has  given  his  heart 
to  her  whom  he  has  saved.  Be  generous ;  pay 
to-day  the  debt  of  gratitude  by  making  your 
brother  and  Halima  happy." 

"  My  brother  is  a  selfish  fellow,"  answered 
Omar ;  "  I  have  suffered  too  much  through  him 
already.  He  knows  that  I  wish  this  Egyptian 
woman;  he  knows  that  I  will  have  her  at  any 
price  ;  what  does  he  expect  to  gain,  therefore,  by 
declaring  himself  my  rival?  If  I  should  lose  a 
hundred  thousand  piastres,  of  what  advantage 


THE  AUCTION.  165 

would  it  be  to  him?  Let  him  give  up  Leila,  and 
I  will  try  to  forget  that  this  very  day  he  has  put 
my  head  for  the  second  time  in  danger." 

"  It  is  well  for  you  that  you  are  a  Mussulman," 
said  Hafiz,  "  otherwise  we  would  teach  you  before 
the  day  was  over  that  an  ounce  of  lead  weighs 
more  than  all  your  gold ;  but  you  have  not  suc- 
ceeded as  you  think,  and  with  the  aid  of  God, 
we  will  confound  your  abominable  selfishness." 

Omar  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  went  to  meet 
Leila.  She  had  just  entered,  concealed  from  all 
eyes  by  the  wrappings  which  enveloped  her,  yet  it 
seemed  to  poor  Abdallah  that  a  fiery  glance  shot 
from  the  thick  veil  which  he  could  scarce  with- 
stand. Cafour  followed  her  mistress.  What  she 
had  said  to  the  sultana  none  could  tell,  but  she 
had  on  her  neck  a  necklace  of  pink  coral,  which 
certainly  had  not  been  cut  for  a  slave.  From 
time  to  time  she  ran  to  a  latticed  balcony  which 
overlooked  the  room,  and  exchanged  mysterious 
words  with  invisible  figures.  The  whole  harem 
was  there,  deeply  interested  in  the  fair  Leila,  and 
perhaps  offering  up  prayers  for  the  son  of  Yusuf. 

Abdallah  was  the  first  to  speak.  "  My  sole 
fortune,"  said  he,  "  is  the  spring  which  I  have 
discovered,  and  the  garden  which  I  have  planted. 
With  my  father's  arms  and  my  mare,  these  are  my 
only  possessions.  All  are  yours,  Leila,  if  you  will 
accept  my  heart  and  life." 

"They   are    not    worth   a   hundred    thousand 


1 66  ABDALLAH. 

piastres,"  said  Omar,  coldly.  "Here  at  Taif  I 
have  a  garden  of  orange-trees  where  the  sherif 
sometimes  does  me  the  honor  to  take  coffee. 
This  garden  is  worth  more  than  two  hundred 
thousand  piastres ;  I  offer  it  to  Leila  in  pledge 
for  a  like  sum  in  jewels." 

"Jewels  !  "  said  Hafiz ;  "  my  nephew  has  those 
which  are  as  rich  as  yours.  Here  is  a  casket 
which  is  worth  all  your  promises." 

To  the  general  astonishment,  the  old  shepherd, 
aided  by  Cafour,  opened  a  tortoise-shell  and 
mother-of-pearl  basket,  filled  with  ear-rings,  brace- 
lets, and  precious  stones.  Abdallah  could  not 
repress  a  cry.  Was  not  that  ruby  bracelet  the 
one  which  Leila  wore  on  her  arm  on  the  day  of 
the  attack,  and  was  not  that  coral  necklace  one 
which  Cafour  had  just  snatched  from  her  neck  ? 
He  attempted  to  speak ;  a  gesture  of  his  uncle 
stopped  him. 

"Beautiful  jewels  which  have  been  worn 
already ! "  said  the  son  of  Mansour,  biting  his 
lip.  "  I  do  not  ask  where  all  these  spoils  ot 
women  come  from,  which  I  esteem  as  they  de- 
serve ;  but  my  generosity  shall  not  be  outdone. 
I  offer  three  hundred  thousand  piastres." 

"  Promising  is  not  giving,"  interrupted  Hafiz ; 
"something  more  than  words  is  needed." 

For  his  sole  reply,  Omar  drew  a  pocket-book 
from  his  girdle,  and  taking  from  it  several  papers, 
handed  them  to  the  sherif.  "  My  lord,"  said  he, 


THE  AUCTION.  167 

"  these  are  the  orders  which  you  sent  me  some 
months  ago,  and  which  are  already  filled.  They 
are  worth  more  than  a  million  piastres ;  will  your 
lordship  refuse  to  be  his  slave's  security  till  to- 
morrow to  these  exacting  Bedouins?" 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  desire,"  answered  the  sherif. 
"  I  will  be  your  security  for  a  hundred  thousand 
piastres." 

"  If  this  sum  is  all  that  is  needed,"  said  one  of 
the  Bedouins,  "  we  will  not  leave  a  companion  in 
trouble,  and  will  give  a  lesson  to  this  merchant 
who  forgets  himself.  Here  are  our  sabres;  we 
will  redeem  them  with  a  hundred  thousand  pi- 
astres." And  taking  off  his  yataghan,  he  flung 
it  at  the  sherif  s  feet  with  a  contemptuous  glance 
at  Omar,  while  Hafiz  approached  to  do  the  same, 
and  to  set  an  example  to  the  rest  of  the  band. 

"Take  back  your  sabre,"  said  the  Commander 
of  the  Faithful  to  the  Bedouin.  "  I  will  be  se- 
curity for  you  and  your  friends.  God  forbid  that 
I  should  see  you  disarmed  about  me,  you  who 
are  my  strength  and  my  glory  !  Omar,"  he  added, 
"  before  making  new  promises,  perhaps  you 
would  do  well  to  reflect.  Repentance  often  fol- 
lows satisfied  passion.  A  lost  slave  can  be  re- 
placed, but  friends  lost  are  never  found  again." 

"  Commander  of  the  Faithful,"  proudly  re- 
joined the  son  of  Mansour,  "  it  was  on  the  faith 
of  your  word  that  I  entered  into  this  business, 
and  unless  you  command  me  to  stop,  I  will  carry 


1 68  ABD  ALLAH. 

it  through.  I  fear  no  one's  displeasure  but  yours. 
And  to  put  an  end  at  once  to  this  wrangling,  I 
offer  a  million  piastres ;  it  is  not  too  large  a  dowry 
for  a  woman  whom  your  lordship  has  honored 
with  his  protection." 

"  Are  you  rich  enough  to  commit  such  follies?  " 
said  the  descendant  of  the  Prophet.  "  I  shall  re- 
member it  on  the  first  occasion." 

"Command,  my  lord,"  returned  the  merchant; 
"  my  fortune  and  life  are  yours." 

A  deep  silence  followed.  Leila,  who  had  re- 
mained standing,  sunk  upon  a  divan ;  Abdallah 
cast  down  his  head ;  and  Hafiz  and  his  friends 
threatened  Omar,  who  braved  them  with  a  dis- 
dainful air.  Cafour  began  to  gesticulate  in  a 
strange  manner  toward  the  balcony,  and  disap- 
peared. All  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  sherif,  who 
evidently  hesitated. 

"  I  have  given  my  word,"  said  he  at  last, 
slowly  addressing  the  Bedouins ;  "  you  are  wit- 
nesses that  everything  has  been  done  in  an  im- 
partial manner.  This  merchant,  your  compan- 
ion in  the  caravan,  offers  a  million ;  the  slave, 
therefore,  must  belong  to  him  if  none  of  you 
offer  more." 

"  Where  could  such  treasures  be  found  in  the 
desert?"  cried  Hafiz.  "Souls  sold  to  Satan 
alone  possess  this  infernal  wealth.  As  for  us,  we 
have  nothing  but  our  guns  and  sabres ;  may  the 
day  come  when  their  value  will  be  felt ! " 


THE  AUCTION.  169 

"  You  forget  Abdallah's  jewels,"  said  Omar, 
smiling. 

"  Ah,  my  brother,"  cried  the  son  of  Yusuf, 
"  what  have  I  done  that  you  should  treat  me 
thus?  Ought  you  to  be  the  one  to  plunge  a 
dagger  into  my  breast?" 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  asked  the  sherif  of  two  slaves 
who  laid  a  heavy  casket  of  chased  silver  at  the 
feet  of  Abdallah. 

"  My  lord,  it  is  the  treasure  of  the  son  of 
Yusuf,"  answered  one  of  the  porters,  as  he  opened 
the  casket  and  took  up  handfuls  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful precious  stones  ever  seen,  which  at  the  first 
glance  were  seen  to  be  worth  more  than  a  million. 

"  It  is  strange,"  thought  the  sherif,  "  how 
much  this  diamond  tiara  and  these  topaz  brace- 
lets resemble  those  I  gave  the  sultana.  Who  has 
sent  you?  "  he  asked  the  slave. 

"  My  lord,"  replied  the  negro,  bowing,  "  love 
is  like  madness ;  all  things  are  forgiven  it."  And 
he  went  out. 

Abdallah  thought  himself  the  sport  of  a  dream. 
Omar  turned  pale  with  rage.  "  There  is  some 
snare  here,"  murmured  he ;  "  no  matter,  I  will 
have  the  last  word.  I  will  give  two  million  pias- 
tres, if  necessary." 

Four  more  slaves,  heavily  laden  with  plate, 
silver  lamps,  and  chased  cups,  paused  like  the 
first  before  Abdallah,  and  laid  this  treasure  at  his 
feet.  At  the  first  glance,  the  sherif  recognized 


1 70  ABD ALLAH. 

a  magnificent  epergne,  the  ornament  of  his  harem, 
which  he  had  received  as  a  present  from  the  sul- 
tan, and  given,  not  without  regret,  to  Fatima,  the 
day  after  a  quarrel. 

"  Who  can  have  given  orders  to  bring  all  these 
treasures  hither?  "  he  cried. 

"  My  lord,"  replied  the  porters,  bowing,  "  love 
is  like  madness ;  all  things  are  forgiven  it." 

"  Let  these  knaves  be  bastinadoed,"  said  the 
Commander  of  the  Faithful ;  "  I  will  teach  them 
to  answer  me  in  proverbs.  Who  sent  them?" 

"  My  lord,  it  was  Cafour,"  replied  one  of  the 
slaves,  in  a  tremulous  voice. 

"  Bring  that  child  of  the  Devil  hither,"  said  the 
sherif.  "  If  she  is  let  alone,  she  will  carry  off 
my  whole  palace." 

The  four  slaves  had  not  quitted  the  room  when 
six  more  entered,  carrying  a  litter  heaped  with 
the  most  costly  robes  and  the  richest  stuffs.  At 
the  head  of  the  procession  was  Cafour,  giving 
orders  with  the  gravity  of  an  imaum.  The  sherif 
called  her,  and  taking  her  by  the  ear,  "  Come 
here,  wretch,"  said  he;  "once  for  all,  will  you 
tell  me  the  meaning  of  these  follies?" 

"  Love  is  like  madness ;  all  things  are  forgiven 
it,"  answered  Cafour,  gravely. 

"  Do  you  dare  to  mix  up  the  sultana  with  this 
disorder?" 

"  The  sultana  is  there,"  rejoined  Cafour,  tran- 
quilly, pointing  to  the  balcony ;  "  she  has  seen 


THE  AUCTION.  171 

and  heard  everything;  she  knows  all,  and,"  she 
added,  lowering  her  voice,  "she  is  furious." 

"  Furious?  and  at  what?"  cried  the  astounded 
sherif. 

"  She  knows,"  continued  Cafour,  "  that  you  re- 
gret having  sacrificed  Leila ;  she  has  guessed  the 
part  played  by  this  merchant,  who  is  bidding  in 
your  name ;  she  feels  that  passion  alone  could 
hurry  you  away  so  far  as  to  make  you  humble 
these  brave  Bedouins,  who  are  the  honor  of  your 
empire.  '  Since  he  loves  me  no  longer,'  she  said, 
*  I  want  no  more  of  his  favors ;  take,  away  from 
my  sight  the  jewels  which  he  has  given  me,  and 
the  robes  with  which  I  delighted  in  adorning  my- 
self to  please  him.  Carry  all  to  Abdallah ;  let 
him  contend  for  me  to  the  last  moment.  If  the 
master  of  my  soul  return  to  me,  what  need  have 
I  of  riches?  If  he  abandon  me,  I  wish  to  keep 
nothing  but  the  memory  of  his  love.'  " 

The  sherif  looked  at  the  balcony  somewhat  ill- 
humoredly.  He  fancied  that  he  spied  through 
the  lattice  a  little  hand  tearing  a  lace  handker- 
chief in  pieces,  and  the  sound  of  tears  and  stifled 
sobs  made  him  cast  down  his  head.  That  instant 
he  became  conscious  that  the  friendship  of  the 
Beni  Amurs  was  worth  more  to  him  than  the 
gratitude  of  Omar,  and  decided  on  his  course. 

"  I  will  not  be  made  an  accomplice  of  unworthy 
weaknesses,"  said  he,  in  a  solemn  voice.  "  I 
never  take  back  a  promise  which  I  have  made. 


172  ABD  ALLAH. 

I  wished  to  secure  a  suitable  dowry  to  this  woman, 
who  is  under  my  protection ;  a  hundred  thousand 
piastres  is  sufficient.  As  to  deciding  between  the 
rivals,  that  belongs  to  Leila.  Let  her  take  the 
merchant  or  the  Bedouin,  the  city  or  the  desert, 
it  matters  little  to  me.  I  shall  respect  her  choice, 
and  force  all  others  to  do  the  same." 

"  Neither  David  nor  Solomon  could  have  judged 
more  righteously,"  cried  Hafiz. 

The  two  brothers  stood  by  the  side  of  Leila. 
Abdallah  gazed  at  her  with  deep  tenderness,  and 
was  mute  with  hope  and  fear.  Omar  spoke, 
moved  with  anger  and  jealousy. 

"Think  of  the  future,"  said  he;  "do  not  sac- 
rifice to  this  man  the  flower  of  your  youth  and 
beauty.  Do  you  know  the  life  of  women  in  the 
tents?  —  a  beggarly  and  slavish  existence.  Are 
your  hands  made  to  grind  corn,  milk  sheep, 
weave  cloth,  and  gather  grass  and  sticks?  Will 
this  Bedouin  give  you  the  baths,  jewels,  and  per- 
fumes to  which  you  are  accustomed  ?  Will  he  dye 
your  eyebrows  and  eyelids?  Will  he  wash  your 
tresses  with  orange- flower  water,  and  dry  them 
with  musk  and  amber?  With  me,  you  will  have 
women  to  wait  on  you,  robes  to  deck  you,  and 
jewels  to  adorn  you.  You  will  not  be  a  servant, 
but  a  mistress ;  each  of  your  caprices  will  be  a 
law  and  a  pleasure  to  me." 

Leila  bowed,  took  the  trembling  hand  of  Ab- 
dallah, and  placed  it  on  her  head.  "  I  am  my 


THE  AUCTION.  173 

lord's  slave,"  she  said.  "  A  stranger,  I  have  no 
other  refuge  than  he  ;  an  orphan,  I  have  no  other 
family.  He  is  my  father,  my  mother,  and  my 
brother.  Oh,  my  beloved,"  she  added  in  a  low 
voice,  raising  her  eyes,  "  at  last  I  am  thine,  and 
can  tell  thee  that  thou  art  my  joy  and  my  life." 
And  smiling  and  weeping  at  the  same  time,  she 
kissed  the  hand  of  her  husband. 

The  Commander  of  the  Faithful  gazed  delight- 
edly at  this  spectacle,  which  renewed  his  youth. 
"  It  is  rather  a  hard  lesson  for  Fatima,"  thought 
he ;  "  but  I  am  not  sorry  for  having  confounded 
the  sultana.  She  will  be  cured  for  some  time 
of  her  incurable  jealousy." 

Omar  was  mute ;  his  contracted  features,  his 
threatening  eyes,  everything  about  him,  betrayed 
the  conflict  of  grief  and  pride. 

"  Son  of  Mansour,"  said  Hafiz,  "  you  should 
marry  Cafour.  Your  soul  is  as  black  as  her  skin ; 
you  would  have  children  worthy  of  their  grand- 
father Satan." 

"  You  are  cruel,  my  uncle,"  exclaimed  the  son 
of  Yusuf.  "  If  Omar  had  been  in  my  place,  he 
would  have  spared  us.  My  brother,"  he  added, 
extending  his  hand  to  the  Egyptian,  "  forgive  me 
my  happiness." 

"  You  are  shrewder  than  I ;  I  congratulate 
you  on  your  success,"  answered  Omar.  And  he 
quitted  the  room  in  despair. 

"  What  a  fine   thing  is  youth  ! "   said  Hafiz ; 


174 


ABDALLAH. 


"  how  honest !  how  confiding  !  what  faith  in  vir- 
tue !  As  for  me,  I  am  old,  and  have  been  in 
battle.  When  I  find  a  wicked  man  under  my 
feet,  I  crush  him  like  a  scorpion,  that  he  may 
sting  me  no  more." 


XXII. 
THE   ARRIVAL. 

T  is  easier  to  retain  wealth  in  the  hand 
of  a  prodigal,  or  to  carry  water  in  a 
sieve,  than  to  lodge  patience  in  the 
heart  of  a  lover.  The  day  had  not 
dawned  and  the  bird  had  not  quitted  its  nest  when 
the  son  of  Yusuf  awakened  his  companions,  and 
arranged  in  a  long  file  the  camels  loaded  with  the 
gifts  of  the  sherif  and  the  sultana.  He  impa- 
tiently awaited  his  beloved,  whom  Fatima  had 
kept  with  her  all  night,  that  she  might  tell  her  the 
story  of  her  love.  A  woman  always  loves  the 
rival  that  she  has  ceased  to  fear.  When  Cafour 
opened  the  door  of  the  harem  and  showed  her- 
self, uglier  and  more  smiling  than  ever,  Abdallah 
uttered  a  cry  of  surprise  and  joy.  Could  the 
woman  behind  the  child,  who  stretched  out  her 
hand  to  him,  really  be  Leila? 

It  was  she,  —  a  lover  could  not  be  mistaken  ; 
yet  it  was  no  longer  the  Egyptian  loaded  with 
jewels,  but  a  Bedouin  who  had  always  lived  in  the 
tents.  Leila  was  clad  in  a  long  blue  cotton  robe, 


176  ABD  ALLAH. 

which  was  gathered  around  the  neck  and  fell  to 
the  feet.  Over  this  robe  was  a  red  woollen  bur- 
noose,  which  covered  her  head.  Her  black  tresses, 
arranged  in  numerous  small  braids,  each  ending 
in  a  coral  bead,  fell  to  her  eyes,  and  added  to  the 
softness  and  brilliancy  of  her  glance.  In  this  sim- 
ple costume,  with  her  head  uncovered,  and  her 
feet  bare,  Leila  was  the  queen  of  the  desert.  The 
delighted  Bedouins  saluted  her  as  she  passed,  as 
fresh  and  smiling  as  the  dawn. 

They  set  out.  A  recent  storm  had  revived 
nature ;  the  grass,  wet  with  dew,  and  the  freshly 
opened  flowers,  smiled  on  these  happy  hearts. 
Leila  no  longer  hid  herself  in  the  back  of  the 
palanquin ;  Abdallah  rode  beside  her,  talking  all 
the  way,  with  his  hand  on  the  side  of  the  litter. 
Cafour  had  never  been  more  talkative  and  saucy. 

"  Oh,  Abdallah,"  said  Leila,  "  if  you  bear  so 
hard  on  the  side  of  the  litter,  you  will  overturn  it 
and  throw  us  both  on  the  ground." 

"  Well,  let  go  the  camel's  rein,  then ;  don't  re- 
fuse me  the  pleasure  of  holding  your  hand." 

"  Ingrate  !  "  cried  Cafour,  "  you  have  quite  for- 
gotten me.  So,  black  Bedouin,  you  are  carrying 
off  the  wife  of  the  Calif  Moyawiah  !  "  And  with 
a  joyous  voice,  she  struck  up  the  Bedouin  girl's 
song : l  — 

1  The  song  of  the  beautiful  Bedouin  girl  Moyawiah  is 
renowned  among  the  Arabs.  See  Burton's  "  Personal 
Narrative  of  a  Pilgrimage  to  El  Medina  and  Mecca.'' 


THE   ARRIVAL.  177 

"  Oh,  take  these  purple  robes  away  ; 

Give  back  my  cloak  of  camel's  hair, 
And  bear  me  from  this  towering  pile 

To  where  the  black  tents  flap  in  air. 
The  camel's  colt,  with  faltering  tread, 

The  dog  that  all  but  barks  at  me, 
Delight  me  more  than  ambling  mules, 

Than  every  art  of  minstrelsy. 
And  any  cousin,  poor  but  free, 

Might  take  me,  fatted  ass,  from  thee." 

They  went  on  thus  the  whole  day,  unconscious 
of  heat  or  fatigue.  When  joy  follows  suffering,  do 
we  think  of  aught  else  than  joy?  Hafiz,  besides, 
was  there  to  lead  the  caravan,  and  Abdallah  did 
not  need  to  quit  the  treasure  that  the  Bedouins 
were  bringing  back  in  triumph. 

Night  was  approaching  when  they  came  in  sight 
of  the  tents  of  the  Beni  Amurs.  The  sun  was  set- 
ting beneath  the  arch  of  an  immense  rainbow  that 
spanned  half  the  sky,  a  roseate  light  illumined  the 
sands  of  the  desert,  and  golden  rays  flashed  their 
gleams  on  the  summit  of  the  granite  pyramids. 
In  the  distance  were  heard  the  shrill  cry  of  the 
sakiah,  the  barking  of  the  dogs,  and  the  cooing  of 
the  pigeons.  Suddenly  a  piercing  shout  announced 
the  return  of  the  travellers. 

"  What  cry  is  that?  "  asked  Leila. 

"  It  is  my  mother's  voice,"  answered  Abdallah, 
dismounting  from  his  horse.  "  You  will  have  two 
to  love  you." 

Halima  soon  appeared,  greatly  astonished  at  the 


178  ABDALLAH. 

sight  of  so  long  a  caravan.  "  What  are  these  ?  " 
said  she,  pointing  to  the  packages.  "  Has  the 
son  of  Yusuf  sold  his  horse  and  arms  to  turn 
merchant?" 

"Yes,  my  mother,"  answered  Abdallah ;  "and 
I  bring  you  the  rarest  and  choicest  of  wares,  —  a 
daughter  to  respect  and  assist  you." 

Leila  alighted  from  the  litter  and  threw  herself 
into  the  arms  of  Halima,  who  looked  at  her  with 
astonishment,  and  asked  the  name  of  her  father 
and  tribe.  She  was  not  less  surprised  at  the  sight 
of  Cafour,  and  despite  all  Hafiz's  speeches,  re- 
turned to  the  tent  with  a  sigh.  She  had  little  lik- 
ing for  a  stranger  woman.  But  when  Abdallah 
came  and  seated  himself  by  her  side  after  unload- 
ing the  camels,  and  Leila  hastened  with  a  basin 
of  warm  water  to  wash  her  husband's  feet  herself, 
"  God  be  praised  !  "  cried  Halima ;  "  this  woman 
will  be  truly  a  handmaid  unto  her  husband.  My 
house  has  at  last  found  a  mistress ;  I  can  die  in 
peace."  And  she  tenderly  embraced  the  daugh- 
ter whom  God  had  given  her  in  his  goodness. 

"What  is  the  matter,  master?"  said  Cafour, 
who  was  lying  at  Abdallah's  feet,  with  her  head 
resting  on  her  preserver's  lap.  "  Has  the  smoke 
of  your  pipe  got  into  your  eyes  ?  You  look  as  if 
you  were  crying.  Oh,  your  pipe  has  gone  out ; 
will  you  have  a  coal  to  light  it?" 

"  Hush  !  hush  !  "  said  the  Bedouin,  stroking 
the  negress's  head  as  if  caressing  a  faithful  dog. 


THE  ARRIVAL.  179 

The  child  lay  down  again,  at  the  same  time  jerk- 
ing her  mistress's  arm  so  suddenly  that  Leila's 
forehead  came  in  contact  with  Abdallah's  lips. 
Cafour  laughed  at  the  success  of  her  stratagem. 
Poor  creature  !  to  whom  everything  was  denied, 
and  who  found  means  to  be  happy  by  placing  her 
happiness  in  that  of  others. 


XXIII. 
KARA   SHITAN. 

JMAR  had  returned  to  Djiddah  with  de- 
spair in  his  heart.  It  was  in  vain  that 
his  slaves  tried  to  divert  him ;  it  was 
in  vain  that  business  and  gold  poured 
in  on  him  from  all  sides ;  his  passion  consumed 
him.  He  passed  whole  days  in  his  chamber,  sit- 
ting cross-legged  on  a  carpet,  revolving  impossible 
projects  in  his  brain,  and  seeking  for  a  vengeance 
which  escaped  him. 

"  Of  what  avail  is  my  father's  wish  to  me?  "  he 
cried.  "  Of  what  use  is  my  health  and  the  money 
that  I  have  accumulated  ?  Am  I  any  the  less,  on 
that  account,  the  most  unhappy  of  men?  That 
wretched  Bedouin,  in  his  poverty,  triumphs  over 
me.  I  am  lonely  and  desolate  in  the  midst  of  my 
abundance.  Accursed  be  life  !  accursed  be  my 
brother  !  The  oracle  has  not  deceived  me  ;  I  am 
slain  by  my  best  friend."  And  he  relapsed  into 
his  despair. 


KARA  SHIT  AN.  181 

The  grief  of  Omar  was  the  talk  of  the  whole 
city.  If  little  love  was  felt  for  the  son  of  Man- 
sour,  on  the  other  hand  his  fortune  was  greatly 
esteemed.  Was  there  not  some  service  to  offer, 
or  some  consolation  to  sell  him?  it  was  asked. 
After  such  an  insult,  he  would  well  reward  whom- 
soever should  avenge  him  on  the  Bedouin.  Such 
words  are  not  lost.  It  is  the  curse  of  the  rich 
that  there  are  those  around  them  ready  to  enter 
the  fires  of  hell  in  their  behalf.  The  passions  of 
the  poor  are  flames  which  consume  the  heart,  and 
then  quickly  die  out ;  the  passions  of  the  rich  are 
a  brazier,  fed  by  all  about  it,  and  giving  forth 
conflagration,  crime,  and  death. 

One  morning  the  son  of  Mansour  received  a 
visit  from  an  Arnaut  captain,  who  came,  he  said, 
on  important  business  that  would  suffer  no  delay. 
Omar  received  him  politely,  and  ordered  pipes 
and  coffee  to  be  served. 

"  Capital  coffee  !  "  said  the  captain,  sipping  it 
slowly ;  "  as  bitter  as  death,  as  black  as  Satan, 
and  as  hot  as  Hades.  And  what  an  exquisite 
mixture  of  nutmeg,  cinnamon,  and  clove  !  What 
a  fine  thing  it  is  to  be  rich  !  the  world  seems  to 
move  for  you  alone." 

"  Men  are  sometimes  mistaken  about  the  hap- 
piness of  the  rich,"  said  Omar,  sighing. 

"  Bah  !  a  rich  man  in  sorrow  is  a  miser  who 
knows  not  how  to  use  his  gold.  If  he  loves  a 
woman,  let  him  buy  her ;  if  he  wishes  to  be  rid  of 


1 82  ABD  ALLAH. 

a  rival,  let  him  sell  his  skin.  Everything  can  be 
bought  here  on  earth ;  with  money  a  man  can 
have  everything." 

"To  whom  have  I  the  honor  of  speaking?" 
asked  the  son  of  Mansour. 

"  My  name  is  Kara  Shitan,"  replied  the  stranger. 
"  I  am  an  Arnaut  chief,  —  one  of  those  who  at- 
tacked you  in  the  desert.  By  killing  my  friend 
Mohammed,  your  brother  Abdallah  made  me  lose 
five  thousand  douros ;  pay  me  this  sum  and  I  will 
rid  you  of  Abdallah." 

"A  murder  !  "  said  Omar. 

"  Bah  !  "  rejoined  the  captain,  coldly ;  "  if  God 
had  not  invented  death,  it  would  not  be  long  be- 
fore we  should  eat  each  other.  Away  with  false 
scruples  !  When  an  occasion  offers,  wisdom  com- 
mands us  not  to  let  it  slip.  It  is  just  to  force  our 
enemies  to  drink  the  bitter  cup  which  they  have 
made  us  taste ;  we  are  right  in  striking  them  with 
the  weapon  with  which  they  were  the  first  to 
wound  us." 

"  My  brother  !  "  said  Omar,  in  a  hesitating  tone. 

"  Your  brother  and  your  enemy.  What  matters 
his  death  to  you?  you  will  have  no  hand  in  it. 
I  shall  kill  Abdallah  like  a  dog  if  I  find  him  in 
the  desert.  I  shall  avenge  my  own  quarrel ;  only, 
in  order  to  avenge  myself,  I  must  have  five  thou- 
sand douros." 

"  Of  what  use  will  your  vengeance  be  to  me?  " 
said  the  son  of  Mansour. 


KARA   SHI  TAN.  183 

"  I  know  nothing  about  it,"  replied  Kara  Shitan. 
"  I  don't  understand  business  as  well  as  you  do ; 
but  if  I  were  in  your  place,  and  Abdallah  should 
disappear,  I  should  find  no  trouble  in  gaming 
possession  of  the  beautiful  Leila.  The  Bedouin, 
it  is  said,  has  no  family  but  his  mother  and  an 
old  dotard ;  a  little  courage  and  resolution  will 
remove  these  obstacles.  An  abduction  is  an 
easy  matter ;  Leila  once  a  widow  and  in  your 
house,  it  will  not  take  long  to  console  her.  What 
is  there  to  fear?  The  sherif?  At  Djiddah,  men 
laugh  at  the  anger  of  the  Bedouins.  The  pacha  ? 
He  is  a  man  like  the  rest  of  us ;  he  has  a  con- 
science, and  we  know  its  price." 

"And  the  tribe  —  have  you  thought  of  that? " 

"  The  tribe  is  nothing,"  said  the  captain.  "  I 
know  that  these  Bedouins  have  as  much  rancor 
and  malice  as  their  camels ;  but  blood  can  be 
bought  as  well  as  other  things.  Money  is  not 
despised  in  the  desert  any  more  than  anywhere 
else,  and  the  Beni  Amurs  will  console  themselves 
with  Abdallah's  inheritance." 

"Yes,"  returned  Omar,  "blood  can  be  ran- 
somed when  the  murder  is  involuntary.  A  hun- 
dred camels  is  the  price  of  a  man's  blood  ;  but 
there  is  no  composition  for  murder,  and  I  shall 
suffer  death." 

"  The  desert  is  mute,"  said  the  captain,  "  and 
dead  men  tell  no  tales.  He  who  finds  a  shrivelled 
corpse  among  the  sands  must  be  shrewd  indeed 


184  A  BD  ALLAH. 

if  he  can  distinguish  a  murder  from  an  accident. 
But  we  will  say  no  more  about  it,"  added  he, 
rising.  "  What  is  the  charming  Leila,  whom  I 
have  never  beheld,  to  me?  Let  her  love  her 
Bedouin ;  let  them  be  happy  together  and  laugh 

at  the  son  of  Mansour.  —  it  is  all  the  same  to  me. 

1 

After  all,  Abdallah  is  a  brave  man,  and  I  respect 
him ;  if  you  had  inflicted  on  h'im  the  outrage 
which  you  have  received,  he  would  not  haggle 
about  the  price  of  vengeance.  Farewell." 

"Stay!  "  cried  the  son  of  Mansour;  "you  are 
right.  While  Abdallah  lives  there  is  no  security 
for  me  on  earth ;  it  was  predicted  to  me  at  my 
birth,  and  I  feel  it  daily.  Deliver  me  from  this 
enemy.  As  to  the  cripple,  I  have  an  account  to 
settle  with  him  which  I  will  attend  to  myself. 
Leila,  you  will  cost  me  dear  !  " 

"  If  you  take  my  advice,"  resumed  the  captain, 
"we  shall  both  strike  at  the  same  time.  I  will 
entice  away  Abdallah,  never  more  to  return,  and 
you  shall  carry  off  the  lady ;  all  will  be  done  in 
two  hours,  and  the  enemy  overthrown  even  before 
he  suspects  the  danger." 

"So  be  it,"  said  Omar;  "  but  remember  that  I 
never  wish  to  see  your  face  again." 

"That  is  very  natural,"  replied  Kara  Shitan. 
"Tell  me  the  day  and  hour,  give  me  the  five 
thousand  douros,  and  rely  on  my  punctuality. 
My  reputation  is  made  ;  I  would  not  fail  to  keep 
my  word  for  the  finest  horses  in  Arabia." 


XXIV. 
HOSPITALITY. 

jjHILE  avarice  and  hatred  were  plotting 
Abdallah's  death,  the  son  of  Yusuf  was 
enjoying  his  happiness  without  dream- 
ing of  a  cloud  in  the  horizon.  Could 
he  suspect  that  he  had  an  enemy  when  his  soul 
was  so  pure  and  his  heart  so  free  from  bitter- 
ness? He  who  loves  and  is  beloved  looks  on  all 
men  as  his  brethren.  For  a  month  he  had  been 
intoxicated  with  joy  and  tenderness,  with  no  other 
care  than  that  of  admiring  Leila  and  thanking 
God  for  having  blessed  his  house. 

In  one  of  those  hot,  misty  mornings  which  pre- 
cede a  storm,  Abdallah  was  reposing  in  his  garden 
in  the  shade  of  the  citron-trees.  Cafour  care- 
lessly lay  at  his  feet,  her  eyes  fixed  on  him  like  a 
dog  watching  for  an  order  or  a  glance.  At  the 
back  of  the  tent  Halima  was  baking  loaves  in  the 
ashes,  while  Leila,  seated  before  a  loom,  was  em- 
broidering gold  and  silver  lozenges  on  her  hus- 
band's burnoose.  The  son  of  Yusuf  abandoned 


1 86  ABDALLAH. 

himself  to  the  happiness  of  living  surrounded  by 
all  whom  he  loved.  The  barking  of  the  dogs 
roused  him  from  his  revery.  A  man  had  stopped 
his  camel  at  the  garden  gate,  and  was  stretch- 
ing out  his  hand  to  the  young  Bedouin.  Leila 
disappeared,  and  Abdallah  went  to  meet  the 
stranger. 

"  Welcome  !  "  said  he ;  "  thy  arrival  brings  us  the 
blessing  of  God.  The  house  and  all  it  contains 
are  thine ;  thou  art  the  master  thereof." 

"  Son  of  Yusuf,"  answered  the  stranger,  "  I 
will  not  set  foot  on  the  ground  till  thou  hast 
sworn  to  render  me  the  service  of  which  I  am 
in  need." 

"  Speak,"  said  Abdallah.  "  Thou  art  a  guest ; 
thy  word  is  a  command." 

"  I  am  a  poor  merchant  from  Syria,"  resumed 
the  stranger.  "  I  have  been  to  Mecca  on  busi- 
ness. Yesterday  I  was  drawn  into  a  quarrel  in 
the  Holy  City  with  a  Beni  Motayr,  and  had  the 
misfortune  to  kill  my  adversary.  His  family  and 
friends  are  pursuing  me  ;  I  have  no  one  to  defend 
me.  If  I  cannot  reach  the  noble  Medina,  I  am 
lost.  You  alone,  it  is  said,  can  conduct  me 
thither  in  safety.  My  life  is  in  your  hands ; 
decide  my  fate." 

"  Enter  my  tent,"  replied  the  son  of  Yusuf. 
"  In  two  hours  we  will  set  out." 

"  Remember,"  said  the  merchant,  "  that  I  trust 
myself  to  you  alone." 


HOSPITALITY.  187 

"  I  alone  will  accompany  you,"  returned  Ab- 
dallah.  "  I  answer  for  your  safety  on  my 
head." 

No  sooner  had  the  stranger  been  brought  into 
the  tent  and  confided  to  the  care  of  Halima  than 
the  young  Bedouin  went  out  to  prepare  for  de- 
parture. Cafour  stopped  him  on  the  way.  "  Do 
you  know  this  man?  "  said  she. 

"  No  ;  what  matters  it  ?  It  was  God  that  sent 
him  hither." 

"  He  is  not  a  merchant,  — I  have  seen  his  pistols  ; 
they  are  too  handsome.  He  is  a  soldier.  Beware 
of  him  ! " 

"  Soldier  or  merchant,  what  have  I  to  fear  from 
a  stranger  and  a  fugitive?"  returned  Abdallah. 
"  Make  haste  and  prepare  supper ;  I  have  only 
time  to  tell  Leila  of  the  journey." 

When  the  son  of  Yusuf  returned  to  his  guest, 
Cafour  had  spread  the  table  with  unleavened  bread, 
pressed  dates,  boiled  rice,  new  milk,  and  cold 
water.  She  bustled  about  him  and  gazed  at  him 
earnestly,  trying  to  recall  where  she  had  seen 
this  face,  which  seemed  familiar  to  her.  The 
stranger  was  perfectly  calm  and  indifferent.  In 
her  anxiety,  she  determined  to  arouse  him  and 
break  the  charm  that  hid  the  danger.  Seizing  an 
earthen  vase,  she  placed  herself  behind  the  pre- 
tended merchant,  and  threw  it  on  the  ground, 
shivering  it  in  pieces ;  the  stranger  looked  angrily 
around. 


1 88  ABDALLAH. 

"The  Arnaut ! "  cried  she,  looking  at  her 
master. 

"  Begone  !  "  said  Abdallah,  "  and  do  not  trouble 
me  with  your  follies." 

Cafour  glided  to  a  corner  of  the  tent,  and  soon 
returned  with  boiling  tea.  The  stranger  was  per- 
fectly tranquil ;  the  word  "  Arnaut "  had  not  moved 
him. 

"  My  guest,"  said  Abdallah,  "  welcome  to  this 
poor  table.  The  journey  will  be  long,  and  it  is 
good  to  strengthen  yourself  against  the  fatigue  to 
come.  Satisfy  your  hunger." 

"  Excuse  me,"  replied  the  merchant ;  "  my 
anxiety  and  fatigue  have  given  me  a  fever,  and 
I  have  but  one  desire,  —  to  set  out  on  my 
way." 

"Salt  is  good  for  the  appetite,"  said  Cafour, 
and  taking  a  handful  of  salt,  she  thrust  it  into 
the  stranger's  mouth  and  fled  to  the  garden. 

"Wretch!"  cried  Abdallah,  "I  will  chastise 
your  insolence ! "  as  he  rushed  furiously  after 
Cafour  to  punish  her. 

"Strike,"  said  Cafour,  weeping,  "strike  the  dog 
that  warns  you,  and  caress  the  jackal  that  will 
devour  you.  Did  you  not  hear  the  dogs  howl 
this  morning?  they  saw  Azrael.  Madman,  your 
sins  blind  you ;  death  is  hovering  over  this  house. 
Do  you  not  know  that  merchant  ?  " 

"  A  guest  is  above  suspicion,"  interrupted  Ab- 
dallah ;  and  returning  to  the  tent,  he  found  the 


HOSPITALITY.  189 

stranger  seated  in  the  same  place,  with  a  smile 
on  his  lips. 

"  The  slave  has  given  me  a  lesson  in  politeness," 
said  he.  "  The  beard  of  the  guest  is  in  the  hand 
of  the  master  of  the  tent ;  I  will  endeavor  to  do 
honor  to  your  hospitality."  He  fell  to  eating 
with  an  excellent  appetite  for  a  sick  man,  talk- 
ing freely  and  seeking  every  means  to  be  agreea- 
ble to  Abdallah. 

At  the  moment  of  departure,  when  the  stranger 
was  already  mounted,  Leila  came  out,  with  her 
face  half  concealed  in  her  burnoose,  holding  a 
pitcher  in  her  hand,  from  which  she  sprinkled 
a  few  drops  of  water  on  the  feet  and  haunches 
of  the  camel.  "  May  God  give  thee  a  good 
journey,"  said  she,  "and  conduct  thee  back  in 
safety  to  those  who  love  and  watch  for  thee  !  " 

"  Those  who  love  me  are  under  ground," 
answered  the  stranger;  "and  since  I  lost  my 
mother,  twenty  years  ago,  no  one  has  watched 
for  me." 

"  Then  may  God  give  thee  a  wife  to  love  thee 
and  grow  old  by  thy  side  !  " 

"  Let  us  go,"  said  the  stranger,  abruptly;  "the 
moments  are  numbered." 

"  My  lord,"  said  Leila  to  her  husband,  "  thou 
bearest  happiness  away  with  thee ;  mayest  thou 
soon  bring  it  back  again  !  " 

Cafour  was  by  Abdallah's  side.  "  Master," 
said  she,  "don't  you  take  your  gun?" 


1 90  ABDALLAH. 

"  No,  it  would  be  an  insult  to  him  whom  I 
accompany.  Fear  nothing ;  he  whom  God  guards 
is  well  guarded.  When  my  uncle  returns  from 
the  fields,  tell  him  to  watch  over  the  tent.  Next 
to  God  it  is  to  him  that  I  trust  you." 

And  taking  his  lance  in  his  hand,  Abdallah  set 
out  on  his  way,  walking  by  the  side  of  the  stran- 
ger's camel.  Halima  and  Leila  followed  the  trav- 
ellers with  their  eyes  as  long  as  they  could  see 
them,  then  returned  to  the  tent.  Cafour  alone 
remained  outside,  with  fixed  gaze  and  trembling 
heart.  It  seemed  to  her  that  the  horizon  was 
about  to  open  and  the  desert  to  give  back  the 
master  for  whom  she  watched.  Vain  hope  of  an 
anxious  soul !  Night  fell  on  the  earth  without 
bringing  Abdallah. 


XXV. 
THE    GOLDEN    LEAF. 

jjO  sooner  had  they  plunged  into  the 
sands  than  the  stranger  looked  around 
him  to  be  certain  that  he  was  alone, 
and  began  to  play  with  the  handle  of 
his  pistol. 

"  I  hope,  my  dear  guest,"  said  Abdallah,  "  that 
you  will  pardon  the  folly  of  that  child  who  dis- 
turbed your  repose." 

"  If  the  slave  had  been  mine,  I  should  have 
punished  her  severely,"  answered  the  traveller. 

"  We  should  be  indulgent  to  those  who  love  us," 
returned  Abdallah.  "  Cafour  thought  me  threat- 
ened with  some  great  danger ;  it  was  to  save  me 
from  this  imaginary  peril  that  she  involuntarily 
offended  you.  By  forcing  you  to  eat  my  salt,  she 
has  made  us  friends  for  life  and  death.  Is  not 
this  the  case  among  you  Syrians?" 

"In  my  tribe,"  said  the  stranger,  "the  obli- 
gation lasts  for  one  day.  But  if  the  second  day 
passes  without  partaking  of  the  same  dish,  the 


192  ABD  ALLAH. 

salt  loses  its  virtue,  and  we  are  free  to  hate  each 
other." 

"Well,  my  guest,"  replied  Abdallah,  smiling, 
"  you  shall  kill  me  to-morrow  after  I  have  saved 
your  life.  Until  then  I  am  in  your  keeping  ;  it  is 
your  duty  to  protect  me  against  all  men." 

"So  I  will,"  returned  the  stranger,  then  was 
silent.  "These  are  strange  words,"  thought  he. 
"  The  Bedouin  is  right ;  I  cannot  kill  him  while 
the  salt  of  hospitality  is  still  in  my  stomach,  —  it 
would  be  a  crime.  I  will  wait  till  evening.  When 
the  sun  sets,  another  day  will  begin,  and  I  shall 
have  the  right  to  do  as  I  like." 

All  along  the  way  he  gazed  at  Abdallah,  who 
went  on  with  an  erect  head  and  calm  brow.  The 
Bedouin's  pistols  were  not  loaded,  and  if  he  car- 
ried a  lance  in  his  hand,  it  was  only  to  aid  him  in 
walking. 

"This  man's  confidence  hampers  me,"  said  the 
stranger  to  himself.  "  I  would  gladly  fell  an 
enemy ;  I  cannot  slaughter  a  sheep.  Five  thou- 
sand douros  for  such  a  task  is  not  enough  ;  I 
would  rather  kill  that  dog  of  an  Omar  for  half 
the  price." 

When  the  sun  was  near  setting,  the  merchant 
urged  on  his  camel  in  order  to  prepare  his  weap- 
ons without  being  seen  by  Abdallah  ;  then,  hiding 
his  arms  under  his  burnoose,  he  paused.  "  Well," 
thought  he,  "the  moment  has  come." 

As   he   turned   round,  the   son  of  Yusuf  ap- 


THE  GOLDEN  LEAF.  193 

proached  him,  seized  the  camel  by  the  bridle,  and 
thrusting  his  lance  into  the  ground,  spread  t\vo 
carpets  on  the  sand.  "  My  brother,"  said  he, 
"  this  is  the  hour  of  prayer.  The  keblah  is  before 
us,  and  if  we  have  no  water  for  our  ablutions,  you 
know  that  the  Prophet  permits  us  to  use  the  sand 
of  the  desert." 

"  I  have  no  time  to  waste  here ;  let  us  go  on," 
cried  the  stranger. 

"Are  you  not  a  Mussulman?"  said  Abdallah, 
looking  at  him  with  a  threatening  air. 

"  There  is  no  god  but  God,  and  Mohammed  is 
his  prophet,"  the  merchant  hastened  to  reply. 
"  But  the  religion  of  a  poor  pilgrim  like  me  is 
simpler  than  that  of  a  noble  Bedouin.  I  do  not 
pray,  because  all  that  God  does  he  does  well ;  I 
do  not  wash  my  face,  because  I  need  the  water  of 
the  desert  to  drink ;  I  do  not  give  alms,  because 
I  ask  them ;  I  do  not  fast  in  the  month  of  Ram- 
adan, because  I  famish  with  hunger  all  the  year 
round ;  and  I  do  not  go  on  pilgrimages,  because 
the  whole  earth  is  the  house  of  God.  This  is  my 
faith ;  so  much  the  worse  for  those  who  are  too 
nice  to  like  it." 

"  You  surprise  me,  my  dear  guest,"  resumed  the 
son  of  Yusuf.  "  I  had  a  different  opinion  of  you. 
Do  you  not  wear,  like  myself,  an  amulet  on  your 
arm  to  drive  away  the  temptations  of  the  Evil 
Spirit  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  it  contains  the  two 
saving  chapters  ?  " 

13 


1 94  ABD ALLAH. 

"Yes,  I  wear  a  talisman,"  said  the  stranger. 
"  My  mother  gave  it  to  me  twenty  years  ago  on 
her  dying  bed.  It  is  the  only  thing  that  I  respect ; 
more  than  once  it  has  turned  aside  the  death  that 
was  whistling  about  me." 

"  Have  you  forgotten  the  words  that  make  the 
virtue  of  this  treasure?  " 

"  I  have  never  troubled  myself  about  them. 
My  mother  chose  them  for  me ;  she  knew  that 
of  which  I  am  ignorant." 

"  Hearken  to  them,"  said  Abdallah,  solemnly. 
"  When  a  man  lives  in  the  midst  of  these  sands 
which  may  overwhelm  him  at  a  breath,  it  is  good 
to  draw  nigh  by  prayer  to  Him  who  alone  rules  the 
danger." 

And  bending  toward  Mecca,  the  son  of  Yusuf 
repeated,  with  emotion,  the  chapter  of  the  Koran 
entitled  the 

DAYBREAK. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  clement  and  merciful  God, 
Say,  I  fly  for  refuge  unto  the  Lord  of  the  DAYBREAK; 
From  the  mischief  of  the  beings  whom  he  has  created; 
From  the  mischief  of  the  night  when  it  cometh  on, 
From  the  mischief  of  the  envious,  who  bearelh  us  envy." 

"  Peace  be  upon  thee  ! "  cried  the  merchant. 
"  Are  those  the  words  which  my  mother  left  me?  " 
and  while  listening  to  Abdallah,  he  replaced  the 
pistols  in  his  belt. 

The  son  of  Yusuf  continued  to  recite  the  Koran  : 


THE   GOLDEN  LEAF.  195 

MEN. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  clement  and  merciful  God, 
Say,  I  fly  for  refuge  unto  the  Lord  of  MEN, 
The  King  of  men, 
The  God  of  men  ; 
From  the  mischief  of  him  who  suggests  evil  thoughts  and 

slyly  withdraweth, 

Who  whispers  evil  into  the  hearts  of  men ; 
From  genii  and  men." 

"Who  says  this?  "  asked  the  stranger.  "Who 
reads  thus  the  heart?  " 

"  It  is  God  himself,"  replied  Abdallah ;  "  we 
are  his.  If  he  wishes  our  destruction,  our  feet 
lead  us  where  death  awaits  us.  If  he  wishes  our 
safety,  death  falls  before  us  like  a  wounded  lion. 
He  saved  Abraham  in  the  midst  of  the  flames ; 
he  drew  Jonah  from  the  depths  of  the  sea  and  the 
belly  of  the  whale." 

"Then  do  you  never  fear  death?  " 

"  No.  Where  God  commands,  all  precautions 
are  vain.  There  are  two  days  in  our  life  when  it 
is  useless  to  arm  ourselves  against  death,  —  the 
day  when  God  orders  Azrael  to  strike  us,  and  the 
day  when  he  forbids  him  to  approach  us." 

"  May  we  not  still  fear  the  unknown  hour  that 
is  destined  to  carry  us  away?  " 

"  No,  not  if  we  have  followed  the  Word  of  God. 
Your  mother  doubtless  told  you  more  than  once 
what  mine  has  often  repeated  to  me,  '  Remember 
that  on  the  day  of  thy  birth  thou  alone  wept, 
while  all  around  thee  rejoiced.  Live  so  that  at 


196  ABD  ALLAH. 

thy  last  moment  all  around  thee  may  be  in  tears, 
while  thou  alone  hast  no  tears  to  shed ;  then  thou 
wilt  not  fear  death,  whatever  may  be  the  hour  of 
its  coming.'  " 

"  You  dwellers  in  the  desert  are  a  strange  peo- 
ple," murmured  the  stranger;  "your  words  are 
golden,  but  your  acts  are  evil."  And  he  invol- 
untarily carried  his  hand  to  his  pistol. 

"  We  are  the  people  of  the  Prophet,"  returned 
the  Bedouin ;  "  we  follow  his  teachings.  Before 
ever  you  set  foot  in  my  tent,"  he  continued,  rais- 
ing his  voice,  "  I  knew  you,  Kara  Shitan.  You 
are  my  enemy ;  you  came  to  my  dwelling  under 
a  false  name.  I  know  not  the  end  of  your  jour- 
ney, and  nothing  would  have  been  easier  than  for 
me  to  rid  myself  of  you ;  but  you  demanded  my 
hospitality,  God  placed  you  under  my  keeping, 
and  this  is  why  I  have  accompanied  you,  alone 
and  unarmed.  If  you  have  evil  thoughts,  may 
God  protect  me  !  if  not,  give  me  your  hand." 

"  May  hell  be  my  inheritance  if  I  touch  him 
who  has  spared  me  !  "  said  Kara  Shitan.  "  Here 
is  my  hand ;  it  is  that  of  a  soldier  who  returns 
evil  for  evil,  and  good  for  good." 

No  sooner  had  the  Arnaut  uttered  the  words 
than  he  began  to  regret  them.  "  Here  I  have 
allowed  myself  to  be  trifled  with  like  a  child," 
thought  he.  "  Shall  I  give  back  the  five  thousand 
douros  ?  No  ;  Omar  is  rich  enough  to  pay  his 
brother's  debt.  Besides,  have  I  not  rid  him  of 


THE   GOLDEN  LEAP.  197 

Abdallah  ?  If  his  heart  has  not  failed  him,  Leila 
by  this  time  is  on  the  way  to  Djiddah.  If  he 
undertakes  to  complain,  let  him  come  for  his 
douros.  I  have  promised  to  kill  some  one ;  I 
give  him  the  preference."  At  this  happy  thought 
Kara  Shitan  laughed  to  himself,  and  admired  his 
own  wit. 

An  instant  after  he  was  seized  with  remorse. 
"  It  is  not  natural,"  thought  he,  "  for  me  to  give 
way  to  such  weakness.  Who  now  will  ask  my 
aid?  I  am  like  an  old  lion  without  teeth  or 
claws.  That  young  woman  who  spoke  to  me  so 
gently,  this  Bedouin  who  trusts  in  me,  the  voice 
of  my  mother  which  seems  to  rise  from  the  tomb, 
—  all  this  is  magic.  Accursed  amulet,  thou  hast 
destroyed  me  !  "  and  he  snatched  the  talisman 
from  his  arm. 

"  Captain,"  said  Abdallah,  "  we  must  plunge  into 
the  desert  if  you  would  not  meet  the  caravan  which 
we  see  yonder  on  the  way  to  the  noble  Medina." 

"  No,"  said  Kara  Shitan,  "  on  the  contrary,  I 
shall  join  it ;  I  need  you  no  longer.  What  shall 
I  give  you  to  show  my  gratitude?  Here,  take 
this  talisman.  You  know  not  what  you  owe  it ; 
you  know  not  what  it  costs  me.  Farewell;  if 
you  hear  me  called  a  coward,  remember  that  I 
have  been  your  guest  and  your  friend." 

And  urging  on  his  camel,  he  rode  off,  leaving 
Abdallah  surprised  by  these  strange  words,  the 
meaning  of  which  escaped  him. 


198  ABDALLAH. 

Left  alone,  the  son  of  Yusuf  endeavored  to 
fasten  the  protecting  amulet  about  his  arm.  It 
was  a  little  roll  of  parchment,  wound  around  witli 
a  silken  thread.  On  one  side  was  sewed  a  bit  of 
velvet,  to  which  something  resembling  a  golden 
bee  was  attached.  Abdallah  uttered  a  cry  of  joy. 
He  could  not  be  mistaken ;  it  was  the  third  leaf. 
The  shamrock  was  complete.  The  son  of  Yusuf 
had  nothing  more  to  seek  for  on  earth ;  the 
diamond  leaf  awaited  him  in  heaven. 

With  a  soul  overflowing  with  gratitude,  Ab- 
dallah prostrated  himself  on  the  earth,  and  in  a 
voice  full  of  emotion,  recited  the  Fat-hah  : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  clement  and  merciful  God, 
Praise  be  to  God,  the  Lord  of  the  universe, 
The  clement  and  merciful, 
The  King  of  the  day  of  judgment ! 
Thee  alone  do  we  worship,  and  of  thee  alone  do  we  beg 
assistance. 

Direct  us  in  the  right  way,  — 
In  the  way  of  those  whom  thou  hast  loaded  with  thy 

blessings, 
Not  of  those  who  have  incurred  thy  wrath,  nor  of  those 

who  go  astray ! 
Amen,  Lord  of  the  angels,  of  the  genii,  and  of  men." 

The  prayer  finished,  Abdallah  turned  his  face 
homeward  with  a  light  heart  and  joyous  tread.  A 
new  thought  had  entered  his  brain,  —  a  thought 
which  was  a  new  happiness  in  itself.  Was  it 
certain  that  the  diamond  leaf  had  fallen  within 
the  gates  of  Paradise?  Did  not  these  three 


THE   GOLDEN  LEAF.  199 

leaves,  reunited  from  different  parts  of  the  globe, 
cry  out  for  their  sister  ?  Could  a  blessing  of  God 
remain  imperfect  ?  Why  might  not  a  new  effort, 
a  more  entire  devotion  to  the  divine  will,  obtain 
the  highest  prize  for  which  Abdallah's  heart 
sighed  ? 

Intoxicated  with  this  hope,  the  son  of  Yusuf 
walked  on  without  thinking  of  the  length  and 
fatigue  of  the  journey,  and  the  darkness  alone 
forced  him  to  stop.  The  sky  was  lowering, 
and  the  moon  did  not  rise  till  near  morning. 
Wrapped  in  his  burnoose,  the  Bedouin  threw 
himself  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  and  quickly  fell 
asleep.  But  his  thoughts  did  not  quit  the  divine 
shamrock ;  he  saw  it  in  his  dreams.  Then  the 
leaves  grew  and  assumed  a  human  form ;  Leila, 
Hafiz,  Halima,  and  poor  Cafour,  hand  in  hand, 
formed  the  mysterious  plant,  and  enriched  him 
with  their  smiles  and  love.  "To-morrow,  my 
loved  ones,  to-morrow  we  shall  meet  again ! " 
murmured  he. 

"  Verily,  the  knowledge  of  the  hour  of  judg- 
ment is  with  God.  No  soul  knoweth  what  it 
shall  gain  on  the  morrow,  neither  doth  any  soul 
know  in  what  land  it  shall  die ;  but  God  is  know- 
ing, and  fully  acquainted  with  all  things." 


XXVI. 
THE   RETURN. 

i]HEN  the  son  of  Yusuf  awakened,  the 
moon  was  shedding  her  gentle  light  on 
the  earth,  and  the  breeze  of  the  morn- 
ing was  already  felt.  The  impatient 
traveller  quickened  his  steps,  and  on  mounting  a 
small  rising  ground,  he  saw  the  tents  of  his  tribe 
in  the  distance  by  the  first  beams  of  daylight.  In 
front  of  them,  and  nearer  him,  was  his  own  dwell- 
ing ;  he  had  waited  for  autumn  before  removing 
from  the  garden  he  had  planted,  the  bower  in 
which  Leila  took  delight. 

At  the  sight  of  his  people  Abdallah  paused  to 
take  breath  and  enjoy  the  spectacle  before  his 
eyes.  The  first  sounds  of  the  morning  were  suc- 
ceeding the  calmness  of  the  night.  A  few  women 
were  already  on  their  way  to  the  well,  with  their 
pitchers  on  their  heads ;  the  camels  were  stretch- 
ing out  their  long  necks  and  braying ;  and  the 
sheep  were  bleating  in  their  folds  for  the  shepherd. 
Around  Abdallah's  tent  all  was  silent ;  there  was 


THE  RETURN.  2OI 

neither  sound  nor  movement  in  the  garden.  "  My 
uncle  is  growing  old,"  thought  the  Bedouin ;  "  there 
is  great  need  of  me  at  home.  What  happiness  to 
surprise  them  all !  Who  would  have  thought  once 
that  a  day's  absence  would  seem  so  long  to  me?  " 

As  he  descended  the  hill,  a  horse  ran  past  him 
at  full  gallop,  —  it  was  Hamama.  He  called  her ; 
the  frightened  mare  fled  toward  the  Bedouin 
village ;  for  the  first  time  she  did  not  hear  the 
voice  of  her  master. 

"  Who  has  untied  Hamama?"  thought  Abdal- 
lah.  "What  has  frightened  her?  It  is  some  new 
prank  of  Cafour's.  Why  have  n't  they  kept  better 
guard?" 

He  entered  the  garden,  the  gate  of  which  was 
open.  At  the  sound  of  his  steps  the  dogs  came 
out  of  the  tent,  but  instead  of  running  to  meet 
him,  they  set  up  a  mournful  howl.  "  God  is 
great !  "  exclaimed  the  son  of  Yusuf.  "  Misfor- 
tune has  entered  my  dwelling." 

In  a  moment  he  felt  the  bitterness  of  death ;  he 
tried  to  go  on,  but  his  knees  bent  beneath  him, 
and  a  cloud  passed  before  his  eyes.  He  tried 
to  call  out,  but  his  words  choked  him.  At  last, 
with  a  desperate  effort,  "  My  uncle,  my  mother, 
Leila,  Cafour,  where  are  you?"  shouted  he. 

There  was  no  answer.  The  doves  were  cooing 
among  the  branches ;  the  bees  were  humming 
around  the  last  remaining  flowers  ;  the  water  was 
rippling  over  the  pebbles ;  everything  was  living 


202  ABDALLAH. 

in  the  garden  —  the  tent  was  mute  and  lifeless. 
Abdallah  dragged  himself  from  one  clump  of 
trees  to  another;  then  his  strength  returned, 
and  the  blood  mounted  to  his  cheeks.  He 
staggered  onward  like  a  drunken  man. 

The  tent  was  empty,  the  furniture  overturned, 
and  a  table  broken ;  there  had  been  a  struggle. 
The  curtain  of  the  apartment  of  the  women  was 
down.  Abdallah  ran  thither.  As  he  entered  he 
stumbled  over  a  corpse,  —  it  was  Hafiz.  The  old 
man  was  stretched  on  his  back,  his  teeth  shut,  his 
mouth  covered  with  foam,  and  his  features  con- 
tracted with  rage.  His  hands  were  clinched.  In 
the  left  he  held  a  shred  of  blue  cotton  stuff,  —  it 
was  the  robe  of  Leila;  in  the  right  a  piece  of 
scarlet  cloth,  torn  doubtless  from  the  ravisher. 
Brave  Hafiz  !  the  cowards  had  not  dared  attack 
him  face  to  face,  but  had  assassinated  him  from 
behind  while  he  was  defending  Leila. 

Abdallah  fell  on  his  knees  by  the  side  of  his 
uncle  and  closed  his  eyes.  "  God  grant  thee 
mercy  !  "  said  he  ;  "  may  he  be  as  good  to  thee 
as  thou  wert  to  us  !  "  He  rose  without  shedding 
a  tear,  and  walked  with  a  firm  step  toward  the 
village ;  but  his  limbs  failed  him  on  the  way,  and 
he  was  forced  to  lean  against  a  palm-tree  for  sup- 
port. Taking  his  pistols  from  his  girdle,  he  fired 
them  in  the  air.  At  the  sound  the  Bedouins 
ran  from  all  sides.  Men  and  women  surrounded 
Abdallah,  who  stood  pale,  with  frenzied  eyes 


THE  RETURN.  203 

and  trembling  limbs.  "  Here  you  are,"  he  cried, 
"  brave  warriors,  Beni  Amurs,  kings  of  the  desert ! 
Oh,  sons  of  Jews,  hearts  of  women,  cowards,  the 
curses  of  God  fall  upon  your  heads  !  "  and  for 
the  first  time  he  wept. 

A  cry  of  rage  answered  his  words.  "  He  is 
mad,"  cried  one  of  the  old  men.  "  Respect  him 
whose  soul  is  with  God.  Come,  my  child,"  added 
he,  taking  Abdallah's  hand,  "calm  yourself;  what 
is  the  matter?  " 

"What  is  the  matter?"  cried  the  young  man. 
"  This  night,  in  my  absence,  Hafiz  has  been  killed, 
my  mother  has  been  carried  off,  all  that  I  loved 
have  been  snatched  from  me.  And  you  —  you 
were  asleep  —  you  heard  nothing.  Curses  on  you  ! 
To  me  the  misfortune ;  to  you  the  outrage  and 
infamy  !  " 

At  the  first  words  of  Abdallah  the  women  had 
rushed  toward  the  tent,  where  they  were  heard 
moaning  and  weeping.  The  sheik  cast  down  his 
head. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  of  watching  over 
your  family  when  your  uncle  and  brother  were 
there  to  protect  them?"  said  he. 

"  My  brother  !  impossible  !  " 

"  Your  brother  came  here  last  evening  with  six 
slaves,"  said  a  Bedouin.  "  I  knew  the  little  mer- 
chant ;  I  helped  Hafiz  kill  a  sheep  for  the  supper 
of  his  guests." 

The  son  of  Yusuf  hid  his  face  in  his  hands, 


204  ABDALLAH. 

then  looked  at  his  companions,  and  said  in  a 
faint  voice,  "  Come  and  see  what  my  brother 
has  done,  and  advise  me  what  to  do." 

"  Advice  is  easy,"  replied  the  sheik.  "  After  an 
outrage  there  is  but  one  thought  for  him  who  has 
a  soul,  —  vengeance  !  You  are  a  ringer  of  our 
hand  ;  whoever  touches  you  wounds  us ;  whoever 
seeks  your  life  seeks  ours.  Omar  has  a  few  hours 
the  start  of  us,  but  with  God's  aid  we  will  kill  him 
before  night.  Come,  my  brave  men,"  he  added, 
"  saddle  your  horses  and  take  a  double  ration  of 
water ;  the  weather  is  lowering,  and  the  skins  dry 
fast.  Let  us  go." 

Before  mounting  his  horse,  Abdallah  wished  to 
see  his  uncle  once  more.  The  women  had  al- 
ready surrounded  the  corpse  and  commenced  their 
lamentations.  "  Oh,  my  father,  my  only  friend," 
cried  the  Bedouin,  "  thou  knowest  why  I  leave 
thee  !  Either  I  will  never  more  enter  this  dwell- 
ing, or  thou  shalt  be  avenged." 

The  Beni  Amurs  followed  the  son  of  Yusuf. 
The  sheik  gazed  long  at  old  Hafiz ;  then,  raising 
his  hand,  "Accursed  be  he  who  returns  to  his 
wife  till  he  has  stricken  down  the  enemy  !  "  said 
he.  "  Woe  to  him  who  has  insulted  us  !  Be- 
fore this  night  we  will  fling  his  corpse  to  the 
eagles  and  jackals.  The  whole  earth  shall  know 
whether  the  Beni  Amurs  are  brethren  who  cling 
together,  or  children  with  whom  men  can  trifle 
with  impunity." 


XXVII. 
LEILA. 

HE  band  set  out  amid  the  cries  of 
the  women  and  shouts  of  vengeance. 
Once  in  the  desert,  all  was  silent, 
each  making  ready  his  arms  and 
watching  the  horizon.  It  was  not  difficult  to  fol- 
low the  caravan;  the  wind  had  not  yet  effaced 
the  footprints  of  the  camels,  all  of  which  pointed 
toward  Djiddah.  Abdallah,  always  in  advance, 
counted  the  minutes,  and  called  God  to  his  aid ; 
but  however  much  he  strained  his  gaze,  he  saw 
naught  but  solitude.  The  air  was  burning ;  the 
heavens  were  heavy  with  the  coming  storm.  The 
horses,  panting  and  covered  with  sweat,  advanced 
at  a  slow  pace.  The  son  of  Yusuf  sighed ;  ven- 
geance seemed  escaping  him. 

At  length  he  perceived  a  black  speck  in  the 
distance,  —  it  was  the  caravan.  It  had  felt  the 
approach  of  the  storm,  and  had  taken  refuge  near 
those  Red  Rocks  known  so  well  to  Abdallah. 
"  My  friends,  we  have  them  !  "  cried  he.  "  Here 


206  ABD  ALLAH. 

they  are  ;  God  has  delivered  them  into  our  hands. 
Forward  !  "  And  each  one,  forgetting  fatigue, 
spurred  his  horse  on  the  ravishers. 

In  these  endless  plains  it  is  not  easy  to  surprise 
an  enemy  that  stands  on  his  guard.  Omar  soon 
recognized  his  pursuers,  and  did  not  wait  for  them. 
He  ranged  the  camels  in  line,  and  placed  a  few 
drivers  behind  them  to  feign  a  defence,  then 
mounted  a  horse,  and  fled  with  the  rest  of  the 
band  into  the  desert. 

The  Bedouins  came  up.  At  the  first  discharge, 
Omar's  camel-drivers  gave  way  and  fled  among 
the  rocks.  Before  the  smoke  was  cleared  away  a 
woman  ran  to  meet  Abdallah,  —  it  was  Halima, 
who  had  been  left  behind  and  had  escaped  her 
enemies. 

"  Blessed  be  thou,  my  son  !  "  she  cried.  "  Do 
not  stop  !  give  chase  to  that  negro  with  the  red 
jacket ;  he  is  the  assassin  of  Hafiz  and  the  kid- 
napper of  Leila.  Avenge  us ;  eye  for  eye,  tooth 
for  tooth,  life  for  life  !  Death  to  traitors,  death 
to  murderers  !  " 

At  these  cries  Hamama  rushed  over  the  sands 
with  the  swiftness  of  a  torrent,  as  if  sharing  in 
her  master's  passion.  The  Bedouins  had  great 
difficulty  in  keeping  their  companion  in  sight. 
As  for  Abdallah,  rage  made  him  forget  danger. 
"  Cowards !  "  cried  he  to  the  accomplices  of 
Omar,  "  where  would  you  flee  when  God  pursues 
you?"  and  with  drawn  sabre  he  passed  amid  the 


LEILA.  207 

bullets,  his  eye  fixed  on  the  negro  who  was  car- 
rying off  Leila.  The  pursuer  and  pursued  soon 
left  the  rest  of  the  party  behind.  The  Ethiopian, 
mounted  on  a  fleet  horse,  sped  like  an  arrow 
through  the  air,  while  Abdallah  followed  close 
behind.  Hamama  gained  ground ;  vengeance 
was  approaching.  Leila,  placed  in  front  and  held 
by  a  powerful  arm,  called  her  husband,  writhing 
in  the  stifling  embrace,  and  vainly  struggling 
against  the  terrible  rider.  Suddenly  she  seized 
the  bridle  and  gave  it  a  jerk,  which  disturbed  the 
horse,  and  caused  him  to  stop  for  an  instant. 
"  Curses  on  you  !  "  cried  the  negro ;  "  I  am  lost ! 
Let  go  the  bridle,  or  I  shall  be  killed  !  " 

"  Here,  my  beloved  !  "  cried  Leila,  clinging  to 
the  bridle,  despite  threats  and  blows,  with  the 
energy  of  despair. 

She  was  saved.  The  son  of  Yusuf  fell  like  a 
thunderbolt  on  the  ravisher,  when  suddenly  the 
frightened  Hamama  sprang  aside  with  a  bound 
which  would  have  thrown  any  other  than  her 
rider.  A  heavy  mass  had  fallen  at  her  feet. 
Abdallah  heard  a  groan  which  chilled  him  to  the 
heart.  Without  thinking  of  the  flying  enemy,  he 
leaped  to  the  ground  and  raised  the  unhappy 
Leila,  pale  and  bleeding,  with  distorted  features. 
A  deep  wound  was  gaping  in  her  throat,  and  her 
eyes  were  sightless.  "  Leila,  my  love,  speak  to 
me  !  "  cried  Abdallah,  clasping  his  wife  to  his 
heart,  while  he  tried  to  stanch  the  gaping  wound 


208  ABDALLAH. 

from  which  her  life-blood  was  ebbing.  Leila  no 
longer  heard  him.  He  seated  himself  on  the 
sand  with  his  precious  burden,  and  taking  Leila's 
hand,  raised  one  finger  in  the  air.  "  My  child," 
said  he,  "  repeat  with  me,  '  There  is  no  god  but 
God,  and  Mohammed  is  his  prophet.'  Answer 
me,  I  entreat  you  !  it  is  your  husband,  —  it  is 
Abdallah  that  calls  you." 

At  this  name  Leila  started ;  her  eyes  sought 
him  whom  she  loved,  and  her  lips  half  opened ; 
then  her  head  fell  on  Abdallah's  shoulder  like 
the  head  of  a  dying  hare  on  the  shoulder  of  the 
hunter. 

When  the  Beni  Amurs  joined  the  son  of  Yusuf, 
they  found  him  motionless  in  the  same  place, 
holding  his  wife  in  his  arms  and  gazing  in  her 
face,  which  seemed  to  smile  on  him.  They  sur- 
rounded their  companion  in  silence,  and  more 
than  one  wept. 

At  the  sight  of  the  corpse,  Halima  uttered  a  cry 
of  anguish,  and  threw  herself  on  her  son's  neck ; 
then,  suddenly  rising,  "Are  we  avenged?"  said 
she.  "Is  Omar  dead?  Is  the  negro  slain ?" 

"  See  those  crows  gathering  yonder,"  said  one 
of  the  Bedouins ;  "  there  is  the  murderer  of  Hafiz. 
Omar  has  escaped  us,  but  the  simoom  is  rising ; 
it  will  overtake  him  before  he  can  escape  from  the 
desert,  and  before  an  hour  the  sand  will  serve  as 
his  winding-sheet." 

"  My   son,   summon   up   your   courage,"    said 


LEILA.  209 

Halima.  "  Our  enemy  still  lives ;  leave  tears  to 
women.  Leave  us  to  bury  the  dead ;  go,  punish 
the  traitor.  God  will  go  with  you." 

These  words  reanimated  Abdallah.  "God  is 
great !  "  he  cried.  "You  are  right,  my  mother; 
to  you  the  tears,  and  to  me  the  vengeance." 

He  rose  and  placed  Leila  in  his  mother's  arms ; 
then,  gazing  at  her  pale  face  with  infinite  tender- 
ness, "  Peace  be  with  thee,  daughter  of  my  soul !  " 
he  said  in  a  slow  and  grave  voice.  "  Peace  be 
with  thee,  who  art  now  in  the  presence  of  the 
Lord  !  Receive  what  has  been  promised  thee. 
It  is  God  that  raises  us  up ;  it  is  God  that  casts  us 
down.  It  is  God  that  gives  us  life ;  it  is  God  that 
sends  us  death.  If  it  pleases  God,  we  shall  soon 
join  thee.  O  God,  forgive  him,  and  forgive  us  !  " 

He  raised  his  hands  to  heaven,  murmured  the 
Fat-hah,  and  passing  his  hand  over  his  brow,  em- 
braced his  mother  and  mounted  his  horse. 

"Where  are  you  going?  "  said  a  sheik.  "Do 
you  not  see  that  fiery  cloud  advancing  ?  We  have 
barely  time  to  reach  the  Red  Rocks;  death  is 
yonder." 

"Farewell,"  answered  Abdallah.  "There  is 
no  more  rest  for  me  except  in  the  shadow  of 
death." 


XXVIII. 
VENGEANCE. 


had  the  son  of  Yusuf  quitted 
his  friends  when  he  found  himself 
before  a  corpse  ;  it  was  the  negro, 
already  covered  with  birds  of  prey. 
"God  hates  the  treacherous,"  murmured  the 
Bedouin;  "he  will  deliver  the  son  of  Mansour 
into  my  hand." 

The  whirlwind  was  approaching  ;  the  sky  was 
of  a  milky  white  ;  the  rayless  sun  looked  like  a 
burning  mill-stone  ;  and  a  poisonous  blast  dried 
up  the  saliva  in  the  throat  and  melted  the  marrow 
of  the  bones.  A  noise  was  heard  in  the  distance 
like  that  of  an  angry  sea  ;  whirlwinds  of  red  dust 
rose  from  the  sand  and  mounted  in  columns 
to  the  sky,  like  giants  with  faces  of  fire  and  arms 
of  vapor.  Everywhere  there  was  desolation,  every- 
where an  implacable  heat,  and  at  moments  a 
silence  even  more  horrible  than  the  moaning  of 
the  simoom. 


VENGEANCE.  211 

Over  this  land,  parched  with  drought,  Hamama 
advanced  slowly,  with  panting  breath  and  palpita- 
ting sides.  Her  master  had  the  tranquillity  of  a 
man  that  knows  neither  hope  nor  fear.  He 
felt  neither  heat  nor  thirst ;  one  thought  alone 
ruled  his  body  and  soul,  —  to  overtake  the  assassin 
and  kill  him. 

After  an  hour's  march  he  saw  a  horse  stretched 
on  the  sand.  A  little  farther  on  he  heard  some- 
thing like  a  sigh.  He  approached  the  spot.  A 
man  lay  in  the  dust  perishing  with  thirst,  and 
without  strength  to  utter  a  cry.  It  was  the  son  of 
Mansour.  His  eyes  were  starting  from  his  head, 
his  mouth  was  wide  open,  and  his  hands  were 
pressed  to  his  panting  chest.  Delirious  with 
pain,  he  did  not  recognize  Abdallah ;  all  that  he 
could  do  was  to  carry  his  fingers  to  his  parched 
throat. 

"  Yes,  you  shall  have  water,"  said  the  Bedouin ; 
"  not  in  this  way  shall  you  die." 

He  dismounted  from  his  horse,  took  a  skin  of 
water  from  the  saddle-bow,  and  after  throwing 
away  Omar's  pistols  and  sabre,  put  it  to  the  lips 
of  the  dying  man.  Omar  drank  deeply  of  the 
water,  which  restored  his  life,  and  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  Abdallah. 

"  You  have  saved  me,"  murmured  he ;  "I 
recognize  your  inexhaustible  goodness.  You  are 
a  brother  to  those  who  have  no  brothers,  a  life- 
giving  dew  to  the  unfortunate." 


2  1 2  ABDALLAH. 

"Son  of  Mansour,  you  must  die,"  said  the 
young  man. 

"  Pardon,  my  brother !  "  cried  the  merchant, 
recovering  the  consciousness  of  danger;  "you 
have  not  saved  my  life  to  put  me  to  death? 
Pardon,  in  the  name  of  what  is  dearest  to  you  on 
earth,  —  pardon,  in  the  name  of  her  who  nour- 
ished us  both  ! " 

"Halima  curses  you,"  returned  Abdallah; 
"  you  must  die." 

Terrified  at  the  sinister  air  of  the  Bedouin, 
Omar  fell  on  his  knees.  "  My  brother,  I  acknowl- 
edge my  guilt,"  said  he.  "  I  have  deserved  your 
anger;  but  however  great  my  fault,  can  I  not 
redeem  it  ?  Take  all  my  fortune ;  be  the  richest 
man  in  Arabia." 

"  You  have  killed  Hafiz ;  you  have  killed 
Leila.  You  must  die,"  said  Abdallah. 

"  Leila  dead  !  "  exclaimed  the  son  of  Mansour, 
bursting  into  tears ;  "  it  cannot  be.  Her  blood 
be  on  her  murderer's  head ;  I  am  not  guilty  of 
it.  Spare  me,  Abdallah ;  have  pity  on  me  !  " 

"  As  well  implore  the  gates  of  the  tomb,"  re- 
plied the  son  of  Yusuf.  "  Make  haste,"  he  added, 
drawing  his  sabre.  "  May  God  give  you  patience 
to  endure  the  affliction  he  sends  you  !  " 

"  At  least,  my  brother,"  returned  Omar,  in  a 
voice  of  emotion,  "  give  me  time  for  a  last  prayer. 
You  would  not  have  the  angel  of  death  seize  me 
before  I  have  implored  the  mercy  of  God  ?  " 


VENGEANCE.  213 

"  Say  your  prayers,"  replied  Abdallah. 

The  merchant  unrolled  his  turban  and  spread 
it  before  him ;  then,  throwing  his  robe  over  his 
shoulders  and  bowing  his  head,  he  awaited  the 
death-blow. 

"  God  is  great !  "  he  murmured ;  "  there  is  no 
strength  nor  power  but  in  God.  To  him  we 
belong ;  to  him  we  must  return.  O  God  !  sover- 
eign of  the  day  of  retribution,  deliver  me  from 
the  fires  of  hell ;  have  pity  on  me  !  " 

Abdallah  gazed  at  him,  weeping.  "  It  must  be," 
he  said  to  himself,  — "it  must  be  ;  "  yet  his  heart 
failed  him.  This  wretch  was  his  brother ;  he  had 
loved  him,  —  he  still  loved  him.  When  love  has 
once  entered  the  soul,  it  lodges  there  like  the  ball 
in  the  flesh  ;  tear  it  out  if  you  will,  the  wound  still 
remains.  In  vain  the  son  of  Yusuf  sought  to  rouse 
his  courage  by  calling  to  mind  the  images  of  his 
slaughtered  uncle  and  dying  wife ;  despite  him- 
self he  could  see  nothing  but  the  happy  days  of 
childhood,  Halima  clasping  both  her  children  to 
her  breast,  and  old  Hafiz  taking  them  in  his  arms 
to  tell  them  of  his  adventures  in  battle.  The 
pleasures  they  had  shared,  the  sorrows  they  had 
had  in  common,  all  these  sweet  recollections  rose 
from  the  past  to  protect  the  son  of  Mansour. 
Strange  to  say,  the  victims  themselves  appeared 
to  ask  pardon  for  the  assassin.  "  He  is  thy 
brother,  and  defenceless,"  said  the  old  soldier. 
"  He  is  thy  brother,"  cried  Leila,  in  tears ;  "  do 


214  ABD  ALLAH. 

not  slay  him."  "No,  no,"  murmured  the  young 
man,  repulsing  the  beloved  phantoms,  "  it  must 
be.  Not  to  punish  crime  is  to  betray  justice." 

In  spite  of  the  trouble  of  the  son  of  Mansour, 
Abdallah's  hesitation  did  not  escape  his  keen  eye. 
Bathed  in  tears,  he  clasped  the  knees  of  his  judge. 
"  Oh,  my  brother,"  he  said,  "  do  not  add  thy 
iniquity  to  mine  !  Remember  what  Abel  said  to 
his  brother  when  threatened  by  him  :  '  If  thou 
stretchest  forth  thine  hand  to  slay  me,  I  will  not 
stretch  forth  my  hand  against  thee  to  slay  thee  ; 
for  I  fear  God,  the  lord  of  all  creatures.'  Alas  ! 
my  folly  has  been  greater  than  that  of  Cain. 
Thou  hast  a  right  to  kill  me  ;  my  life  is  too  little 
to  expiate  the  crime  to  which  I  have  been  led  by 
my  passions.  But  the  forgiving  God  loves  those 
who  follow  his  example.  He  has  promised  indul- 
gence to  those  who  remember  him ;  leave  me  to  re- 
pent. He  has  promised  a  paradise  whose  breadth 
equalleth  the  heavens  and  the  earth  to  those  who 
bridle  their  anger ;  pardon  me  that  God  may  show 
thee  mercy,  for  God  loveth  the  beneficent." 

"  Rise  !  "  said  Abdallah.  "  Thy  words  have 
saved  thee.  Vengeance  belongs  to  God  alone. 
Let  the  Lord  be  thy  judge ;  I  will  not  dip 
my  hands  in  the  blood  of  him  whom  my  mother 
has  nursed." 

"Wilt  thou  abandon  me  here?"  said  Omar, 
looking  round  him  anxiously ;  "  it  would  be  more 
cruel  than  to  slay  me." 


VENGEANCE.  215 

For  his  sole  answer,  Abdallah  pointed  to  Ha- 
mama.  Omar  sprang  on  the  mare,  and  without 
turning  his  head,  buried  his  spurs  in  her  flanks 
and  disappeared. 

"Well,"  thought  he,  as  he  rode  through  the 
billows  of  sand  upheaved  by  the  wind,  "if  I 
escape  the  simoom,  I  am  saved  from  the  peril  pre- 
dicted me.  This  Abdallah  is  very  imprudent  to 
remain  in  the  desert  in  such  weather,  alone,  with- 
out a  horse,  and  without  water.  No  matter ;  his 
folly  be  on  his  own  head.  I  will  forget  these  ac- 
cursed Bedouins,  who  have  never  brought  me 
anything  but  misfortune.  The  time  has  come  at 
last  to  live  for  myself." 


XXIX. 

THE   DIAMOND   LEAF. 

JHE  wicked  laugheth  in  his  heart  at  his 
success,  and  saith,  "  I  am  cunning, 
and  cunning  is  the  queen  of  the 
world."  The  just  submitteth  to  what- 
ever may  befall  him,  and  saith,  lifting  his  hands  to 
heaven,  "  O  Lord,  thou  causest  to  err  whom  thou 
pleasest,  and  directest  whom  thou  pleasest.  Thou 
art  the  mighty  and  the  wise ;  what  thou  doest  is  well 
done." 

Abdallah  turned  his  steps  homeward  with  pro- 
found sadness.  His  soul  was  still  troubled ;  he 
had  expelled  its  anger,  but  could  not  uproot  its 
grief.  Large  tears  trickled  down  his  face,  while 
he  made  vain  efforts  to  check  them.  "  Forgive 
me,  O  Lord  !  "  he  cried ;  "  be  indulgent  to  the 
weakness  of  a  heart  that  cannot  submit !  The 
Prophet  has  said,  '  The  eyes  are  made  for  tears 
and  the  flesh  for  affliction.'  Glory  to  him  who 
holdeth  the  dominion  over  all  things  in  his 


THE  DIAMOND  LEAF.  217 

hands  !  May  he  give  me  strength  to  endure  what 
he  has  willed  !  " 

He  walked  on  thus  in  prayer  amid  the  sands 
and  the  fiery  whirlwinds ;  heat  and  fatigue  soon 
forced  him  to  stop.  The  blood  in  his  veins  was 
turned  to  fire ;  a  strange  disorder  troubled  his 
brain,  and  he  was  no  longer  the  master  either  of 
his  senses  or  thoughts.  Devoured  with  a  burning 
thirst,  at  moments  both  sight  and  hearing  de- 
serted him ;  then  he  saw  in  the  distance  gardens 
full  of  verdure  and  lakes  bordered  with  flowers ; 
the  wind  whistled  through  the  trees,  and  a  spring 
gushed  from  among  the  grass.  At  this  refreshing 
sight,  he  dragged  himself  toward  these  enchant- 
ing waters.  Vain  illusion  !  gardens  and  running 
springs  all  vanished  at  his  approach;  there  was 
naught  about  him  but  sand  and  fire.  Exhausted 
and  breathless,  Abdallah  felt  that  his  last  hour 
was  approaching.  "There  is  no  god  but  God, 
and  Mohammed  is  his  prophet,"  he  cried.  "  It 
is  written  that  I  shall  never  depart  from  this 
place.  O  Lord,  come  to  my  aid  !  remove  far 
from  me  the  horrors  of  death  !  " 

He  knelt  and  washed  his  face  with  the  sand  of 
the  desert,  then,  drawing  his  sabre,  began  to 
dig  his  own  tomb. 

As  he  began  to  stir  the  earth,  it  suddenly 
seemed  to  him  that  the  simoom  had  vanished. 
The  horizon  lighted  up  with  a  glow  softer  than 
the  dawn,  and  the  clouds  slowly  opened  like  the 


2l8  ABD ALLAH. 

curtains  of  a  tent.  Was  it  the  mirage?  None 
can  tell ;  but  Abdallah  stood  mute  with  surprise 
and  admiration.  Before  him  bloomed  a  vast  gar- 
den, watered  by  brooks  flowing  in  all  directions. 
Trees  with  trunks  of  gold,  leaves  of  emerald,  and 
fruits  of  topaz  and  ruby,  covered  broad  lawns, 
enamelled  with  strange  flowers,  with  their  luxu- 
riant shade.  Beautiful  youths,  clad  in  green  satin 
and  adorned  with  costly  jewels,  reclined  on  mag- 
nificent cushions  and  carpets,  looking  lovingly  at 
each  other,  and  drinking  from  silver  cups  that 
water,  whiter  than  milk  and  sweeter  than  honey, 
which  quencheth  the  thirst  forever.  By  the  side 
of  the  youths  stood  enchanting  maidens,  with 
large  black  eyes  and  modest  mien.  Created  of 
the  light,  and  like  it  transparent,  their  grace  rav- 
ished the  eyes  and  the  heart;  their  faces  shone 
with  a  softer  lustre  than  the  moon  emerging  from 
the  clouds.  In  this  kingdom  of  delights  and 
peace,  these  happy  couples  were  smilingly  con- 
versing, while  lovely  children,  eternally  young, 
surrounded  them  like  strings  of  pearl,  each  hold- 
ing a  vase  more  sparkling  than  crystal,  and  pour- 
ing out  for  the  blessed  that  inexhaustible  liquor 
which  never  intoxicates,  and  the  taste  of  which  is 
more  delicious  than  the  fragrance  of  the  pink. 
In  the  distance  was  heard  the  angel  Israfil,  the 
most  melodious  of  the  creatures  of  God.  The 
houris  joined  their  enchanting  voices  to  the  notes 
of  the  angel,  and  the  very  trees  rustled  their 


THE  DIAMOND  LEAF.  219 

leaves,  and  celebrated  the  divine  praise  with  a 
harmony  exceeding  all  that  man  has  ever 
dreamed. 

While  Abdallah  admired  these  marvels  in 
silence,  an  angel  descended  toward  him,  —  not  the 
terrible  Azrael,  but  the  messenger  of  celestial 
favors,  the  good  and  lovely  Gabriel.  He  held  in 
his  hand  a  tiny  diamond  leaf;  but  small  as  it 
was,  it  shed  a  light  that  illumined  the  whole 
desert.  His  soul  intoxicated  with  joy,  the  son  of 
Yusuf  ran  to  meet  the  angel.  He  paused  in  ter- 
ror ;  at  his  feet  was  a  vast  gulf,  full  of  fire  and 
smoke,  bridged  only  by  an  immense  arch  made 
of  a  blade  of  steel,  which  was  finer  than  a  hair 
and  sharper  than  a  razor. 

The  Bedouin  was  already  seized  with  despair, 
when  he  felt  himself  supported  and  urged  on  by  an 
invisible  power.  Hafiz  and  Leila  were  on  either 
side  of  him.  He  did  not  see  them ;  he  dared 
not  turn  for  fear  of  awaking.  But  he  felt  their 
presence,  he  heard  their  soothing  words ;  both 
supported  and  carried  him  along  with  them. 
"  In  the  name  of  the  clement  and  merciful  God  !  " 
he  cried.  At  these  words,  which  are  the  key  to 
Paradise,  he  was  transported,  like  lightning,  to 
the  other  side  of  the  bridge.  The  angel  was 
there,  holding  out  the  mysterious  flower.  The 
young  man  seized  it.  At  last  the  four-leaved 
shamrock  was  his;  the  ardor  of  desire  was 
quenched ;  the  veil  of  the  body  was  lifted ;  the 


2  20  ABD  ALLAH. 

hour  of  recompense  had  struck.  Gabriel  turned 
his  eyes  toward  the  bottom  of  the  garden,  where 
divine  majesty  was  enthroned.  Abdallah's  glance 
followed  that  of  the  angel,  and  the  eternal  splen- 
dor flashed  in  his  face.  At  this  lustre,  which  no 
eye  can  endure,  he  fell  with  his  face  to  the  ground, 
uttering  a  loud  cry. 

This  cry  man's  ear  has  never  heard,  man's 
voice  has  never  repeated.  The  delirious  joy  of 
the  shipwrecked  mariner  who  escapes  the  fury  of 
the  waves,  the  delight  of  the  bridegroom  who 
presses  his  beloved  for  the  first  time  to  his  heart, 
the  transports  of  the  mother  who  finds  the  son 
whom  she  has  wept, — all  the  joys  of  earth  are 
naught  but  mourning  and  sorrow  to  the  cry  of 
happiness  which  rose  from  the  soul  of  Abdallah. 

At  this  voice,  repeated  afar  by  the  echoes,  the 
earth  resumed  the  beauty  of  its  days  of  innocence 
and  blossomed  with  the  flowers  of  Paradise ;  the 
sky,  bluer  than  sapphire,  seemed  to  smile  upon 
the  earth;  then  gradually  silence  fell  on  all 
things,  the  heavens  darkened,  and  the  whirlwind 
regained  dominion  of  the  desert. 


XXX. 

THE   HAPPINESS    OF   OMAR. 

|N  re-entering  his  house  at  Djiddah,  the 
son  of  Mansour  experienced  the  joy 
of  a  criminal  escaped  from  death ;  he 
shut  himself  up  to  regain  his  compos- 
ure, and  again  viewed  his  wealth  and  handled  his 
gold  ;  it  was  his  life  and  his  power  !  Did  not  his 
treasures  give  him  the  means  to  subjugate  men 
and  the  right  to  despise  them  ? 

Nevertheless,  the  pleasure  of  Omar  was  not 
unmixed  ;  there  was  still  more  than  one  danger 
in  perspective.  If  Abdallah  reached  home,  might 
he  not  regret  his  clemency?  If  he  should  die  in 
the  desert,  would  he  not  have  an  avenger?  Might 
not  the  sherif  think  himself  offended?  Might 
not  the  pacha  set  an  extortionate  price  on  his 
protection?  The  son  of  Mansour  drove  away 
these  importunate  thoughts.  "  Why  be  terrified," 
thought  he,  "when  the  most  imminent  peril  is 
past,  thanks  to  my  address?  Am  I  at  the  end 
of  my  resources  ?  My  real  enemies  have  fallen ; 


222  ABD  ALLAH. 

shall  I  not  overcome  the  others?  Life  is  a  treas- 
ure that  diminishes  daily ;  what  folly  to  waste  it 
in  vain  anxieties  !  How  difficult  it  is  to  be  per- 
fectly happy  here  on  earth  !  " 

These  reasonable  fears  were  followed  by  other 
cares  which  astonished  the  son  of  Mansour.  In 
spite  of  himself,  he  thought  of  old  Hafiz,  whom 
he  had  murdered ;  nor  could  he  put  aside  the 
remembrance  of  Leila,  or  of  his  brother  dying  in 
the  desert,  the  victim  of  a  generous  devotion. 

"Away  with  these  foolish  imaginings,  that 
whiten  the  beard  before  the  time  !  "  cried  he. 
"  What  weakness  to  think  of  such  things  !  Can  I 
change  destiny?  If  old  Hafiz  is  no  more,  it  is 
because  his  time  had  come.  On  the  day  that 
Abdallah  was  born,  his  death  was  written  before 
God.  Why  shall  I,  therefore,  trouble  myself? 
Am  I  not  rich  ?  I  buy  the  conscience  of  others ; 
I  will  buy  repose  for  my  own  heart." 

It  was  in  vain  for  him  to  try ;  his  soul  was  like 
the  restless  ocean,  which,  unable  to  appease  its 
angry  waves,  casts  up  mire  and  foam  upon  the 
shore.  "I  must  gain  time,"  thought  he;  "these 
feelings  are  nothing  but  a  remnant  of  agitation, 
which  fools  call  remorse,  but  which  is  nothing  but 
a  little  fatigue  and  feverishness.  I  know  how  to 
cure  it.  I  have  a  wine  of  Shiraz  which  has  more 
than  once  consoled  me ;  why  not  seek  patience 
and  forgetfulness  therein?" 

He  went  to  his  harem,  and  called  a  Persian 


THE  HAPPINESS  OF  OMAR.  22$ 

slave  with  an  enchanting  voice,  —  a  heretic  who 
was  not  shocked  at  the  use  of  the  cup,  and  who 
poured  out  with  infernal  grace  this  poison  ac- 
cursed by  all  true  Mussulmen. 

"  How  pale  you  are,  master  !  "  said  she,  on  see- 
ing the  discomposed  features  of  the  son  of  Mansour. 

"It  is  the  fatigue  from  a  long  journey,"  an- 
swered Omar.  "  Pour  me  some  wine,  and  sing 
me  one  of  the  songs  of  your  country,  to  drive 
away  care  and  bring  back  mirth." 

The  slave  brought  two  crystal  cups  set  in  gold 
which  she  filled  with  a  liquor  as  yellow  as  gold 
and  as  clear  as  amber;  then,  taking  a  tambour- 
ine, she  struck  it  alternately  with  her  hand  and 
elbow,  and  waved  it  over  her  head,  while  she  sang 
one  of  the  perfumed  odes  of  the  Bulbul  of  Shiraz. 

"  Pass  round  the  flowing  bowl,  child, 

Filled  to  the  brim  with  bright  wine ; 
All  the  ills  and  woes  of  life 

Are  healed  in  this  juice  divine. 
Has  Time  writ  his  lines  on  thy  brow? 

Has  sleep  through  the  night  fled  thine  eyes? 
Cast  into  these  liquid  flames 

Thy  regretful  cares  and  thy  sighs. 

"  Away  with  that  drinker  morose, 

Who  mourns  for  the  years  that  are  gone ; 
In  these  wines  of  amber  and  rose 

The  flowers  and  the  spring  live  on. 
Are  the  roses  dead  in  their  bowers  ? 

Has  the  nightingale  left  thee  alone  ? 
Drink,  drink,  and  the  clink  of  the  glass 

Shall  be  sweet  as  the  bulbul's  tone. 


224  ABD  ALLAH. 

"  Leave  Fortune,  the  treacherous  sprite, 

To  the  weak  or  the  wicked  throng  ; 
What  good  can  she  give  us  more, 

Since  she  leaves  us  wine  and  song  ? 
The  false  one,  lightly  betrayed, 

Nightly  in  visions  I  see ; 
Oh,  wine,  give  me  back  the  sweet  dream  1 

Oblivion  and  love  are  in  thee." 

"  Yes,  give  me  oblivion,"  cried  the  son  of  Man- 
sour.  "  I  know  not  what  is  the  matter  with  me 
to-day;  this  wine  saddens  instead  of  diverting 
me.  Strike  your  instrument  louder;  sing  faster; 
make  more  noise  ;  intoxicate  me." 

The  beautiful  Persian  sang  merrily,  striking  her 
tambourine :  — 

"  Hafiz,  thou  squanderest  life  ; 

'  In  the  wine-cup  death  lurks,'  say  the  old. 
Oh,  sages,  he  envies  you  not, 

Nor  your  snowy  locks  nor  your  gold. 
You  may  chide  him,  but  still  he  will  drink ; 

Day  and  night  he  will  still  drink  deep, 
For  wine  only  can  cause  him  to  smile, 

Wine  only  can  cause  him  to  weep." 

"  Curses  on  you ! "  cried  Omar,  raising  his 
hand  to  strike  the  slave,  who  fled  affrighted. 
"  What  name  do  you  bring  me  ?  Cannot  the 
dead  rest  in  their  graves  ?  Will  they  come  even 
here  to  trouble  my  repose  ?  After  ridding  myself 
of  my  enemies,  shall  I  care  for  phantoms  ?  Away 
with  these  chimeras  !  I  will  tear  out  these  mem- 
ories from  my  heart ;  in  spite  of  them  all,  I  will 


THE  HAPPINESS  OF  OMAR.  22$ 

laugh  and  be  happy."  As  he  said  this,  he  uttered 
a  cry  of  terror.  Cafour  stood  before  him. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from,  child  of  the 
Devil?"  he  exclaimed.  "What  are  you  doing 
in  my  house?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  wish  to  know,"  answered  the 
child ;  "  it  was  not  by  my  will  that  your  servants 
carried  me  to  your  harem." 

"  Begone  !  I  do  not  wish  to  see  you." 

"  I  will  not  go  till  you  have  given  me  back 
my  mistress.  I  belong  to  Leila;  I  wish  to 
serve  her." 

"Your  mistress  has  no  more  need  of  your 
services." 

"  Why?  "  said  the  negress. 

"Why?"  replied  the  son  of  Mansour,  in 
a  broken  voice.  "  You  will  know  by  and  by. 
Leila  is  in  the  desert ;  go  and  find  her." 

"  No,"  said  Cafour,  "  I  shall  stay  here,  and 
wait  for  Abdallah." 

"  Abdallah  is  not  in  my  house." 

"  He  is ;  I  have  seen  his  horse." 

"  My  servants  brought  away  the  horse  at  the 
same  time  with  you." 

"  No,  they  did  not,"  returned  Cafour;  "  before 
your  servants  seized  me,  I  had  let  Hamama  loose. 
She  was  more  fortunate  than  I ;  she  escaped.  If 
she  is  here,  Abdallah  must  be  here  too ;  if  not, 
what  have  you  done  with  your  brother?" 

"  Away  from  here,  insolent  wretch  !  I  will  not 
15 


226  ABD  ALLAH. 

be  questioned  by  you.  Dread  my  anger ;  I  can 
cause  you  to  die  under  the  bastinado."  His  eyes 
glared  at  these  words  like  a  madman's. 

"Why  do  you  threaten  me?  "  said  Cafour,  in 
a  milder  tone.  "Although  I  am  but  a  slave, 
perhaps  I  can  serve  you.  You  have  some  hidden 
trouble  ;  I  see  it  in  your  face.  This  trouble  I  can 
dispel.  In  my  country  we  have  spells  to  cure 
the  heart.  Were  sorrow  or  even  remorse  prey- 
ing upon  your  soul,  I  could  draw  it  thence  as  the 
bezoar-stone  draws  the  venom  from  a  wound." 

"  You  have  this  power,  a  child  like  you ! " 
said  Omar,  ironically,  looking  at  Cafour,  whose 
eyes  steadfastly  met  his  gaze.  "Why  not?"  he 
added ;  "  these  Maghrebi  negroes  are  all  children 
of  Satan ;  they  know  their  father's  secrets.  Well, 
yes,  I  have  a  sorrow ;  cure  me,  and  I  will  reward 
you." 

"Have  you  any  hashish  in  your  house?"  said 
Cafour.  "  Let  me  mix  you  a  drink ;  I  will  re- 
store your  gayety." 

"  Do  what  you  will,"  replied  Omar.  "  You  are 
a  slave ;  you  know  that  I  am  rich  and  generous. 
I  have  confidence  in  you ;  I  wish  at  any  price  to 
enjoy  life." 

Cafour  soon  found  the  hashish-leaves.  She 
brought  them  to  the  son  of  Mansour,  who  fol- 
lowed her  movements  with  an  eager  eye.  She 
took  the  plant,  washed  it  three  times,  and  rubbed 
it  in  her  hands,  muttering  strange  words.  She 


THE  HAPPINESS  OF  OMAR.  227 

then  pounded  the  leaves  in  a  copper  mortar,  and 
mixed  them  with  spices  and  milk.  "  Here  is 
the  cup  of  oblivion,"  said  she ;  "  drink  and  fear 
nothing." 

No  sooner  had  Omar  drunk  than  he  felt  his 
head  suddenly  grow  light ;  his  eyes  dilated,  and 
his  senses  became  marvellously  acute,  yet,  strange 
to  say,  he  seemed  moved  by  the  will  of  Cafour. 
If  she  sang,  he  repeated  the  song ;  if  she  laughed, 
he  burst  into  shouts  of  merriment ;  if  she  was 
grave,  he  wept ;  if  she  threatened  him,  he  trembled. 
As  soon  as  the  negress  saw  him  in  her  power, 
she  set  to  work  to  wrest  his  secret  from  him. 

"  You  are  satisfied,"  said  she ;  "  you  are  avenged 
on  your  enemies?  " 

•'Yes,  I  am  satisfied,"  said  Omar,  laughing;  "I 
am  avenged.  The  beautiful  Leila  will  no  longer 
love  her  Bedouin." 

"  Is  she  dead?"  asked  Cafour,  in  a  trembling 
voice. 

"She  is  dead,"  said  Omar,  weeping;  "but  I 
did  not  kill  her  :  it  was  the  negro.  Poor  woman  ! 
she  would  have  been  so  well  off  in  my  harem  ! " 

"And  you  no  longer  fear  Abdallah !  "  said 
Cafour,  with  an  exulting  air. 

"  No,  I  do  not  fear  him.  I  took  his  horse, 
and  left  him  alone  in  the  desert,  exposed  to  the 
simoom.  He  will  never  more  quit  it." 

"  Lost  in  the  sands,  —  dead,  perhaps  !  "  cried 
Cafour,  tearing  her  clothes. 


228  ABDALLAH. 

"How  could  it  be  helped?"  said  Omar,  in 
a  plaintive  voice.  "  It  was  destiny.  It  had 
been  predicted  to  me  that  my  best  friend  would 
be  my  worst  enemy.  The  dead  always  love  you ; 
they  harm  no  one." 

"  What  friend  had  you  to  fear,  —  you  who  had 
never  loved  any  human  being?"  cried  the  ne- 
gress.  "  Hold  !  "  she  added,  struck  with  a  sudden 
inspiration;  "shall  I  show  you  this  friend  who 
will  cause  your  death?" 

"  No,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Omar,  trembling  like  a 
child  threatened  with  the  rod.  "  Amuse  me, 
Cafour;  do  not  make  me  sad." 

"  Look  ! "  said  the  slave,  placing  a  mirror  be- 
fore his  eyes.  "  See  the  assassin  of  Hafiz ;  see 
the  murderer  of  Leila ;  see  the  fratricide ;  see 
the  villain ;  see  him  for  whom  there  is  no  more 
repose  !  Wretch  !  you  have  loved  no  one  but 
yourself !  Your  selfishness  has  been  your  ruin ; 
your  selfishness  will  be  your  death." 

At  the  sight  of  her  contracted  features  and 
haggard  eyes  Omar  stood  terrified.  A  new  light 
dawned  on  his  soul ;  he  abhorred  himself,  and 
tore  his  beard  in  despair.  Shame  soon  restored 
his  consciousness :  he  looked  around  him,  and 
at  the  sight  of  Cafour  possessed  of  his  secret,  he 
fell  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage.  "  Wait,  child  of 
perdition  ! "  he  cried,  "  I  will  punish  your  inso- 
lence ;  I  will  send  you  to  join  your  Abdallah." 

Giddy  as  he  was,  he  attempted  to  rise ;  his  foot 


THE  HAPPINESS  OF  OMAR.  229 

slipped.  He  struck  against  the  table,  and  dragged 
the  lamp  with  him  in  his  fall ;  his  clothes  caught 
fire,  and  in  an  instant  his  whole  body  was  in 
flames.  "  Die,  villain  !  "  cried  Cafour ;  "  die  like 
a  dog  !  Abdallah  is  avenged  !  " 

The  son  of  Mansour  uttered  lamentable  shrieks, 
which  reached  the  inmates  of  the  harem.  They 
ran  to  his  aid.  At  the  sound  of  their  footsteps, 
Cafour  set  her  foot  on  the  face  of  Omar,  and 
with  a  bound  sprang  to  the  outer  door  and 
disappeared. 


XXXI. 

TWO   FRIENDS. 

|HILE  the  slaves  flew  to  the  succor  of 
the  son  of  Mansour,  Cafour  saddled 
Hamama,  took  a  skin  of  water  and 
some  provisions,  and  galloped  through 
the  narrow  streets  of  Djiddah.  The  night  was 
dark,  and  the  storm  was  rumbling  in  the  distance. 
The  child  began  to  stroke  the  horse  and  talk  to 
it,  as  if  the  brute  understood  the  language  of  men. 
"  Oh,  dear  Hamama,"  said  she,  "  take  me  to  your 
master.  Together  we  will  save  Abdallah.  You 
know  how  much  he  loves  you  ;  no  other  hand  has 
cared  for  you ;  help  me  to  find  him.  Thanks  to 
you,  I  will  restore  him  to  his  mother;  together 
we  will  weep  for  Leila,  and  I  will  comfort  him. 
Do  this,  dear  Hamama,  and  I  will  love  you." 
She  embraced  the  horse,  and  stretching  herself 
along  the  neck  of  the  animal,  gave  it  full  rein. 
Hamama  darted  onward  like  an  arrow,  as  if  led 
by  an  invisible  hand.  As  she  rushed  past  an 
Arnaut  post  at  daybreak,  the  frightened  sentinel 


TWO  FXIENDS.  231 

discharged  his  gun,  declaring  that  he  had  seen 
Satan  mounted  on  a  white  horse  fleeter  than  the 
wind. 

Thus  flew  Hamama,  without  pausing  or  needing 
to  drink.  A  strange  instinct  impelled  her  toward 
her  master.  She  went  straight  toward  him,  re- 
gardless of  the  beaten  track,  over  rocks,  through 
beds  of  rivers,  and  across  deep  gullies,  with  God 
for  a  guide. 

Toward  midday  Cafour  perceived  Abdallah  in 
the  distance,  prostrate  on  the  sand,  as  if  in  prayer. 
"  Master  !  master  !  "  she  cried,  "here  I  am  !  " 
But  neither  the  tread  of  the  horse  nor  the  cries  of 
the  child  roused  Abdallah  from  his  contempla- 
tion. Hamama  stopped ;  but  he  did  not  stir. 
Cafour,  trembling,  ran  to  him.  He  seemed 
asleep ;  his  face  was  beaming  with  ecstasy ;  a 
heavenly  smile  was  on  his  lips ;  sorrow  had  fled 
that  countenance  which  had  been  a  prey  to  such 
suffering.  "  Master  !  master  !  speak  to  me  !  " 
cried  the  poor  slave,  clasping  him  in  her  arms. 
He  was  cold ;  life  had  quitted  the  mortal  cover- 
ing. God  had  called  to  himself  this  spirit  made 
for  heaven. 

"  Abdallah  ! "  cried  Cafour,  throwing  herself 
on  him  and  covering  him  with  kisses,  "  Abdallah, 
I  loved  thee  !  "  And  she  rendered  up  her  soul 
to  God. 

Hamama  gazed  long  at  the  two  friends  with 
anxiety,  and  laid  her  burning  nostrils  again  and 


23  2  ABD ALLAH. 

again  on  Cafour's  cheek ;  then  she  stretched  her- 
self on  the  sand,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  two 
bodies,  to  await  the  awakening  of  those  who  were 
never  to  wake  again  on  earth. 

Long  after,  some  Bedouins,  wandering  in  the 
desert,  discovered  Abdallah  and  Cafour  in  the 
sands,  so  closely  embraced  that  it  was  necessary 
to  put  them  into  the  same  coffin.  Strange  to  say, 
the  beasts  of  prey  had  devoured  the  horse,  but 
not  a  vulture  had  alighted  by  day  on  the  head  of 
Abdallah,  not  a  jackal  had  touched  by  night  the 
body  of  Cafour. 

Under  the  shade  of  the  palms  by  the  Well  of 
the  Benediction,  two  mounds  of  earth,  surrounded 
with  stones  to  keep  off  the  jackals,  mark  the  spot 
where  the  Bedouin,  the  Egyptian,  and  the  negress 
await  together  the  day  of  judgment.  The  fragrant 
jessamine,  trailing  from  the  branches  of  the  trees, 
festoons  the  tomb,  and  surrounds  it  all  the  year 
with  odorous  blossoms.  Here  the  weeping  Ha- 
lima  mourned  her  children  till  summoned  by 
Azrael  to  join  them  ;  and  here  the  wearied  trav- 
ellers pause,  before  quenching  their  thirst  at  the 
blessed  well,  to  recite  a  Fat-hah  in  honor  of 
Abdallah,  well  named  the  servant  of  God.1 

1  Abdallah  in  Arabic  signifies  the  servant  of  God. 
THE  END. 


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